Jane Doe & The Overlooked Sister
by MagicSwede1965
Summary: A young woman wants to know her true origins, while her friend wants to feel herself equal to her older sisters. Follows 'Madness Redux'.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:**_Lots of intricate ties in this one. It's also the prelude to a new, separate story. Thanks as always to all readers and reviewers, especially the faithful regulars!_

* * *

§ § § -- October 15, 2004

"Ach,_herregud_, I don't believe it!" Christian exclaimed unexpectedly from his computer in the library. "I never thought it would happen, but it did!"

"What did?" asked Leslie, poking her head around the doorway. "Can you hurry, my love? The babies need baths."

"Oh, I'll be right there—but wait till you hear this," Christian said. "Anna-Laura e-mailed me and told me that Gregory Nordeman flew all the way out to Lilla Jordsö just to take her to dinner and propose to her. And what's even more astounding, she accepted!"

Leslie shook her head hard once and came fully into the room, half running, to get a look at the message he was eyeing. It was in _jordiska_, but she recognized enough of the words to see that Christian was right. "What is it she says about Fantasy Island?" she asked, seeing the name farther down in the text.

"Oh." Christian turned and read aloud, translating as he went. "She says, 'I am still a little stunned that I told Gregory yes, but he's actually grown mellow as he and I have gotten to know each other. But I wasn't going to let him dictate the entire procedure, and I told him I would marry him only if he agreed to have the wedding on Fantasy Island, as you and Leslie did. We'll have enough press generated by the event, and I want us to have a quiet wedding and maybe a short honeymoon if we're lucky.' It seems not everyone in the family will be coming. Gerhard and Liselotta will have to stay behind because of Gerhard's job, and Margareta is out of the country already on a charity trip. But Roald and Rudolf will be coming along with Anna-Laura, and so are Carl Johan, Amalia and even Gabriella."

"Oh boy," Leslie said. "We'll have to tell Father—he'll want to make sure the best possible accommodations are set aside for them."

"Not so fast, my Rose," Christian said, chuckling and rising from the chair. "Carl Johan says he and Amalia want to stay with us."

Leslie grinned slyly. "In that case, we can draft them to help us with the triplets as long as they're taking up space in our house." Christian let out a loud laugh and followed her to the triplets' room to get the babies for bathing.

§ § § -- October 30, 2004

Despite the mad wedding preparations and the presence of a queen on the island, business went on as usual; and this Saturday, the last weekend before Anna-Laura and Gregory Nordeman were to be married, was no exception. Roarke introduced a young man whose fantasy had always been to compete in the Olympics; then he smiled at the sight of two young women stepping out of the plane's hatch. "Excellent," he said, "they were able to come after all. Miss Emily Campbell, the light-blonde woman, and a close friend of hers, Louisa Karlsen." Emily Campbell was a little taller than Louisa Karlsen, only partly because Emily was wearing heels; she looked much prettier as well. Her pale hair was cut in gently waving layers and framed her somewhat long face in a way that flattered it perfectly. She wore a stylish dress and carried a matching purse. Louisa Karlsen, on the other hand, had hair of some dark-blonde hue, pulled severely back from her own round face and confined to a bun atop her head; she wore a plain white blouse and a navy-blue skirt with heavy-looking penny loafers. "They both come from Saint Paul, Minnesota, and each of the ladies has an individual fantasy."

"Two for the price of one?" Leslie said jokingly. "Do they tie in with each other?"

"Not at all," Roarke said. "Miss Campbell learned very recently that she is not her parents' biological child. She was raised in Scotland, and when she was seven her mother died. Her father claimed to be unable to take care of her, so she was sent to relatives of his in the Shetland Islands, where she grew up. However, events came to pass that brought the truth to light, and now she wishes to know who she truly is." He paused for a moment before adding, "The answer will undoubtedly shock more than one person."

"Wow," mumbled Leslie. "And the other?"

"Louisa Karlsen is the youngest sister of actress Toni Karlsen," Roarke explained. "She was born in Los Angeles, but in her teens her mother and stepfather moved to their native Minnesota, where she completed her compulsory schooling. She is a very bright young lady; she was valedictorian of her high-school class, and was one of the top ten graduates of her college class. However, in Miss Karlsen's words, she has 'no social life', and she feels as though her sisters have all outshone her. She feels overlooked, lost in the shuffle, and would like to find some way in which to distinguish herself."

"Well, now, there's a challenge for us," Leslie said. "I think I might talk to her a little bit. I remember meeting Toni Karlsen years ago, when Errico had his enormous gala to announce his engagement to Michiko. I can see the resemblance between them."

"Indeed," Roarke said, "but as you surely know, appearances are too often deceiving." With that, he turned to the native girl who paused nearby with a tray, lifted the champagne flute from it and toasted the new arrivals as he had always done. "My dear guests! I am Mr. Roarke, your host. Welcome to Fantasy Island!"

Leslie watched while Emily Campbell cheerfully raised her drink and drank a healthy draft from it. Louisa Karlsen peered dubiously into her glass, took an experimental sip and screwed up her face in revulsion, making Emily Campbell burst into laughter. Leslie grinned as well, amused; the little vignette told her a great deal about the two friends. Emily Campbell clearly had high expectations and great optimism for her fantasy, but Louisa Karlsen was harder to read. Leslie looked forward to hearing their stories.

‡ ‡ ‡

When Emily and Louisa arrived at the main house, Leslie was in the middle of changing Susanna's diaper while Tobias and Karina made a few attempts to inch across the Persian carpet. At nearly five months old, the triplets were all beginning to show signs of wanting to explore more of their world, and while they couldn't actually crawl yet, they did roll over, and did it often. Leslie thought Tobias might be about to sprout a first tooth, but at the moment it hadn't appeared. All three were fairly gregarious, which made them an instant hit with guests and vacationers who saw them.

Emily Campbell and Louisa Karlsen were no exception. "Och, look, what adorable bairns!" Emily exclaimed delightedly in a charming Scottish burr. "Hello, wee honeypots!"

Leslie giggled as Emily squatted down to tickle Tobias under the chin. "There's a new one. That's Tobias—look out, I think he might be teething, because he keeps grabbing fingers and gnawing on them."

Louisa Karlsen was smiling too, but she remained standing, gazing down at Tobias and Karina, both of whom stared wide-eyed up at her. "They're sweet," she offered, lifting one hand and waggling her fingers at Karina. Karina broke into a huge smile and laughed aloud, eliciting a look of startled delight from Louisa. "I think she likes me!"

"I'd say so," Leslie agreed, grinning and securing Susanna's diaper. "Father'll be back in a minute or so, he had a quick errand to run. Don't let him chew on you, Miss Campbell." Tobias had grabbed Emily's thumb and was mouthing it energetically.

"Och, call me Emily, will ye? Or better than that, just Emmy. I always hated my name." Emmy's grin stretched from ear to ear as she gazed at Tobias chowing down on her thumb. "Seems he likes the taste o'me."

Louisa giggled softly and drifted over to watch Leslie pulling Susanna's sleeper back on. "How old are they? They're two girls and a boy, right?"

"Yep. They'll be five months old on Tuesday. Tobias has your friend captive there; this is Susanna, and Karina's sitting there watching you. Susanna and Karina are actually identical twins, so we have to be careful not to dress them alike for Christian's sake."

"Oh yeah…Prince Christian, your husband," Louisa said, looking alarmed. "Gosh, and I forgot to curtsy. I'm not even sure I know how."

"Don't bother," Leslie said, flapping a dismissive hand. "The only place we 'go royal' is Lilla Jordsö. Here on Fantasy Island, we're just regular folks—makes life easier for us and the people we deal with every day. Okay, Susanna, sweetie, you're all set! See the lady there looking at you? Smile for her?" She perched Susanna on her lap facing out and gently tickled the baby's tummy; Susanna squirmed a bit but otherwise just sat and stared at Louisa.

Roarke came in then and chuckled at the tableau before him. "I see the triplets have made more new friends," he remarked warmly, coming into the study and detouring long enough to pick up Karina when she squealed happily at him. He gently shook her hand and talked to her a little in Spanish before bringing her back behind the desk with him.

Emmy looked over at Leslie. "Can I pick him up, Your Highness?"

"Please, just call me Leslie, or even Mrs. Enstad," Leslie said, visibly cringing at the honorific. She caught her father's amused gaze and said, "Honestly, I'll never get used to that. Christian laughs at me every time I react."

Roarke chuckled and sat down with Karina in his lap; the baby immediately reached for the pen that lay on his desk, and he moved it out of her range, handing her a rattle that lay nearby instead. "They seem very lively this morning."

"They are," Leslie sighed and turned to Emmy. "Sure, pick him up and bring him on over. He'll chew on your thumb as long as you let him." She brought Susanna with her and pulled the computer chair behind Roarke's desk so she could sit with Susanna in her lap; Emmy toted Tobias over and settled into a chair. Tobias barely seemed to notice, trying to push her thumb farther into his mouth. Louisa giggled at the sight, taking the other chair.

"Well," Roarke said, "perhaps you ladies would like to tell me more about your fantasies. Miss Campbell, you seem especially eager for yours."

"Oh aye, Mr. Roarke, that I am," Emmy said, nodding vigorously. She seemed to have forgotten that Tobias was doing his utmost to gum her hand into submission. "Ma old auntie turned ma life upside doon recently. Y'see, Mr. Roarke, ma mum died when I was but a bairn, only seven years old. I still remember her a wee bit. She was verra protective o' me, barely let me out o' her sight long enough ta play wi' ma friends. Always seemed guilty over somethin', I recall noo. When she died, ma father decided he didn't want me aroon' an' shipped me away ta his grandmum and her two unmarried sisters in the Shetlands. An' that's where I grew up, y'see, never knowin' a thin' was wrong. But ma great-auntie died only two weeks ago, an' I got word from ma grandmum that Auntie wanted ta see me afore she went. Sae I made the trip back from Minneapolis—I work there, y'see. An' that's when Auntie told me the family secret. I wasna even a Campbell, and ma mum an' dad weren't ma mum an' dad after all."

"I see," Roarke said, frowning slightly. Karina had dropped the rattle and was playing with the silver chain around his right wrist, but he didn't seem to notice. "Did she tell you anything more than that? Did she know how her sister's son…acquired you, for lack of a better word?"

"She wasna sure," Emmy said, looking pensive for the first time. She peered down at Tobias and gently rubbed his stomach. "She said ma mum was never able ta have bairns, an' it was her greatest wish ta be a mum. When ma father heard that, she said, he went away somewhere for about three months, an' he came back wi' me."

Roarke and Leslie looked at each other. "How old were you at the time, do you know, Miss Campbell?" Roarke asked.

Emmy considered it. "They dinna know exactly, said I was aboot a year old, but had no clear idea of ma actual birthdate. Grandmum was born aboot the same time o' year, sae we decided ma birthday would be the same as hers, an' we've always celebrated it that way."

Leslie mused, "It sounds to me like a black-market adoption."

"Indeed," Roarke agreed. "Was it ever formalized?"

"Auntie said no, I wasna legally Mum an' Dad's bairn," Emmy said. "She told me I must find ma real parents, an' told me the best place ta do that was here."

Leslie grinned. "You have a reputation, Father."

"So it would appear," Roarke remarked dryly. He noticed Karina, chuckled slightly and freed his silver chain from her hands, turning her over to Leslie. Then he studied Emmy Campbell for a few seconds before asking, "What is your birthdate as you know it, Miss Campbell?"

"They tell me the eighteenth o' December, nineteen seventy-seven, Mr. Roarke," said Emmy. "Grandmum's birthday was th' eighteenth, anyway."

Roarke considered that. "So you are nearly twenty-seven, then?" Emmy nodded, and he settled back in his chair. "It's extremely difficult to trace black-market adoptions. Those markets are often supplied by women who wish to have nothing to do with their babies, and usually are poor and in desperate need of money. Such women are not above selling their children. Are you aware, Miss Campbell, of any disputes over money in your family? Perhaps the man who claimed to be your father took a large sum of money with him at the time he departed the country."

"Nothin' like that, as I recall," Emmy mumbled, her eyes and voice faraway. She squinted and frowned, obviously dredging her memory. "When I was a wee one, they'd fight sometimes. Ma dad would say he'd got me just for her an' she should be grateful. Ma mum would say it wasna right ta take another woman's bairn away…"

"She's told me this story before," Louisa Karlsen spoke up then, shyly. "I think she was kidnapped. I mean, that's what it sounds like to me."

Leslie, reminded of the recent episode with the Komainens, shook off the thoughts and looked at Roarke. "It's a possibility at least," she ventured.

"Yes," Roarke mused. "Miss Campbell, did your great-aunt know anything about your father's journey—especially his destination?"

Emmy shrugged helplessly. "She said the story he told was that he was travelin' ta London on business. When he came back he had me wi' him."

"Then we will research British kidnappings during the late 1970s," Roarke said, "and if we find anything we will notify you. However, I would also ask for one other thing. There is a DNA lab on the island. If we can get a sample, it may assist in identifying you."

"I'd be glad ta do it, Mr. Roarke," Emmy said. "Ennathin' ta find out who I really am. The not knowin' keeps me awake nights noo, an' it hurts."

Roarke smiled sympathetically and said, "I understand. We have a driver out front who will take you to the hospital—the DNA lab is located near there. After that, you may avail yourself of any of our amenities, and try to relax and enjoy yourself."

Emmy nodded. "Noo that, I can do. Och, Mrs. Enstad, I hate ta spoil the bairn's fun, but I'm afraid I need ma thumb back." They all laughed, and Leslie got up to put the girls on the floor before she lifted Tobias out of Emmy's lap. Roarke handed Emmy a tissue, and the young Scotswoman thanked him and Leslie, waved goodbye to the babies and left.

"I think these imps have had enough stimulation for a morning," Leslie said with a grin, patting Tobias' back in an attempt to stop his indignant wailing at losing his human chew toy. "Let me put them up for their naps, and then I'll be back down for the other half of the story. Here, sweetie, how about you chew on your own thumb, okay? I know, I know, that lady's thumb tasted pretty good, huh…and she was very nice to let you use it. Yes, there you go…good boy, Tobias…that thumb tastes just as good, doesn't it?" She headed up the stairs with her son, and Louisa Karlsen snickered softly, watching them go.

"Were the babies born here, Mr. Roarke?" she asked, peering shyly at him.

"Yes, they were," Roarke said, "amid a good bit of fanfare. They've created quite the sensation in their father's native country as well, and in fact they themselves were the targets of kidnappers only a few weeks ago. Fortunately, we caught the criminals and deported them back to their native country." Roarke had kept discreet track of what had happened after the Komainens had been banished from the island, per his own decree. Word had filtered back that the Lilla Jordsö authorities had turned over the punishment decisions to Finland, as their regular procedure would have been deportation anyway. The Finnish army had immediately handed Antti Komainen a dishonorable discharge; Liisa Komainen had been summarily fired from the Tampere hospital where she had worked, and both were standing trial. Niilo was being tested to see whether he was mentally capable of undergoing trial, though Roarke suspected the young man was likely to be committed, like his mother before him. All had been banned from Fantasy Island for life.

Leslie came back down and gathered up Susanna, while Roarke arose and lifted Karina, excusing himself to help Leslie put the girls down. They came down a few minutes later, and Leslie replaced the computer chair, taking the one Emmy Campbell had vacated, while Roarke resumed his place behind the desk. By then their guest was fidgeting. "Are you all right, Miss Karlsen?" Roarke asked.

The young woman's head shot up; her face turned red and she nodded. "I'm starting to think maybe I shouldn't be doing this," she mumbled. "Emmy's fantasy's a lot more important than mine is."

"Every fantasy is important to the person who has it," Roarke said gently, "and thus it is important to me as well. Why don't you tell us about yours, Miss Karlsen?"

"Well…I guess you know who I am, or at least you know who my sister is. Toni Karlsen, the Oscar-winning actress." These words came out with a slight sneer, and Leslie's eyes widened a little. As if in response, Louisa's face reddened again. "I guess I shouldn't've said it like that, exactly. I mean…I'm really proud of Toni. She was fourteen when I was born, and we're the farthest apart in age, but I'm closest to her out of all my sisters. And it was the biggest thrill in the world when she won the Oscar for her movie_Visitations_."

"It was a great movie," Leslie agreed, "and I think she's a very talented actress. I met her about thirteen years ago—she and I are the same age—and we had a nice chat. She even remembered to come back to the main house the next day, before she had to leave, and sign my autograph book. Your sister's a neat lady, Miss Karlsen."

"Please call me Louisa," the girl said, and Leslie smiled and nodded. "Yeah, Toni's a wonderful sister, and don't get me wrong, I love her to death. But she's always so busy all the time, I don't get to really talk to her that much, and I see her even less often. And anyway, I don't really think she'd understand." Louisa shifted in her chair and said pleadingly, "See, I don't measure up to my sisters at all! There's no way I could ever match Toni's success, and my sister Jackie is founder and president of Toni's official fan club, so she has an exciting life too. She's always going with Toni to movie premieres and parties and stuff, so she can report everything in the fan-club newsletter. And then there's my sister Kristen. She's the chief meteorologist on the highest-rated morning TV news program in the Twin Cities. Every time people hear my name, they tell me they always watch Kristen Karlsen's forecast. She's only three years older than I am, but she already owns her own house and she can do what she wants…she has four dogs and six parakeets! She's single too, but she loves it that way. Says she gets to meet all the hottest guys and not worry about some jealous boyfriend chewing her out about it." Leslie laughed; Roarke smiled and once more settled back in his chair. "So they're all successful and glamorous…and me, I'm just the family mouse."

"What do you do for a living, Miss Karlsen?" Roarke asked.

Louisa hunched her shoulders. "I'm an executive secretary for an international charity based in New York City, with branches in ten major cities in the states and another twenty cities around Europe. And that's all."

"That's not exactly working as a cashier for minimum wage," Leslie remarked.

"No," Louisa said with a sigh, "but it's not glamorous. I never get to travel, and I don't make enough money to buy a house. I was renting an apartment in Minneapolis till I got my two cats, and then my landlord told me either the cats went or I did. I was so mad. I love animals and I really wanted to have cats, so I wouldn't come home to an empty house every night and have to sit around watching stupid reality shows just for some noise." She grinned sheepishly. "My cats are both Siamese, and you know Siamese—they sing."

"No wonder your landlord found out," Leslie said teasingly.

Louisa giggled shyly. "Yeah…well, anyway, I had to move back in with my mother and stepfather. They say my cats scream instead of sing. And I admit, Chocolate and Cinnamon seem to think they're the feline versions of Beverly Sills and Dame Kiri Te Kanawa, but I like to think of it as having them talk to me." Roarke and Leslie laughed again, and Louisa seemed to relax slightly. "But see, that's my entire life. I don't do anything half as exciting as any of my sisters."

"Does your sister the weather forecaster ever invite you to any of the places she goes?" Leslie asked curiously.

"No, we have different friends, and a lot of hers are snobs. She did try to set me up with some guy at the TV station where she works, but we had practically nothing in common, and later Kristen told me I blew it because word got back to her that he thought I was boring and plain." She hung her head and interlaced her fingers in her lap. "He was right, but I don't know what to do about it." She looked up again, giving Leslie a stare that seemed to beg for understanding. "I'm a brain, to put it bluntly. Always was. I always got straight A's in every subject I took, and I had a 3.9 GPA in college too. But you know what happens to brainy kids? They have no social life. For some reason, high-school kids think stupid is cool, and college kids aren't a lot better. I never had a date till Kristen set me up with that guy—and I haven't had one since. I'm a washout. I didn't have any friends, male or female. I spent the summer after college graduation visiting Toni in Hawaii where she lives now, then I got my job, and that's where I met Emmy. She's the first and only friend I've ever had. Isn't that the pits?"

"My son-in-law tells me there is a saying in his homeland," Roarke observed, "which states that it is better to have one good friend than one hundred acquaintances."

Louisa considered that, then mumbled, "Well, I guess that makes sense…but it's kind of hard to see the truth in it when you've never really had any of either."

Roarke smiled and Leslie chuckled. "Well," Leslie said, "in that case, let's see if we can summarize. You're very intelligent, and it cost you the opportunity to have friends, so you feel underdeveloped socially. And you're hoping to do something that will make you feel as accomplished and glamorous as your older sisters."

"Yes, exactly!" Louisa said, brightening.

"What are your interests, Miss Karlsen?" Roarke asked.

That seemed to bring her up short; she looked at Roarke with perplexity. "Interests? You mean like what kind of music and movies I like, or TV shows, stuff like that?"

"No, not entertainment tastes, exactly. Are there certain fields that interest you? Do you have hobbies? Do you collect anything?" Roarke clarified.

"Oh, stuff like that," Louisa said, blinking. "Well, I like cats…and oh yeah, I absolutely love languages. It wasn't really necessary to the degree I got, but I took every foreign-language course my college offered. I was lucky actually. I went to a place that offered Swedish as well as the usual stuff like French and German and Spanish. I took all those, and I took Latin and Russian too. If it was a foreign language, I took the class."

Leslie uttered, "Wow. How fluent are you?"

"The Swedish and German stuck with me better than the other ones did," Louisa admitted. "Maybe that's because I'm Norwegian on my dad's side and part Swedish on my mother's. Swedish is closer to English than German is, so my Swedish is pretty decent. I try to practice it as much as I can. When I got my job, I thought my knowledge of languages might help, that maybe I could get to travel and see places, you know? But that never happened. I just go to work, do the same old boring drudge job, and go home again. And not only that…I suppose I could be a little less, well, dowdy."

"Well," Roarke said, "perhaps then we can help you. Leslie will take you into town and help you with whatever aspects of your appearance you wish to change; and then we might discuss the other part of your fantasy. Will that be satisfactory?"

"Sounds like a lot of fun, Mr. Roarke," Louisa said, peering shyly at him. "Thanks for not making fun of my fantasy."

Roarke smiled. "As I said, every fantasy is important to its bearer, and therefore to me. I'll put you in Leslie's capable hands now, and I wish you good luck."


	2. Chapter 2

§ § § -- October 30, 2004

Leslie and Louisa departed the house and climbed into a jeep parked out front, and Louisa began to play with the hem of her skirt in a way that told Leslie it was an ingrained habit. "Where'll we go?" Louisa asked.

"I think the first thing we should do is a little clothes shopping," Leslie said. "Then we can take you into the beauty salon and get you a makeover." She saw the look of mingled interest and apprehension flash across Louisa's features and grinned. "Don't worry, it's painless, and you'll be in charge—they won't do anything you don't want them to."

"Oh," said Louisa. "Okay…well, maybe we could start with that, if it's okay with you. I gotta admit, I don't know the first thing about makeup. Kristen tried to teach me, but it was so complicated, and it was more than I really wanted to bother with every day. I don't want to take half an hour just painting my face."

"Understandable," Leslie said. "I know exactly where to take you. My friend's sister owns a salon in the pedestrian quarter. She cuts my hair when it needs it, and she also taught me how to use the minimum amount of makeup for the maximum effect. She can do the same for you. Her name's Deborah, and she's very friendly."

Deborah McCormick, thirty-five-year-old younger sister of Lauren Knight, was alone in the small storefront when Leslie came in with Louisa, and she looked around in surprise when the bell on her door jangled merrily. "Oh, hi, Miss Leslie! Your hair doesn't already need cutting, does it?"

"No, it's not me this time," Leslie said and chuckled. "This is a guest of ours, Louisa Karlsen, and she's interested in a makeover. But I told her she calls the shots."

Deborah approached and shook hands with Louisa. "Hi, nice to meet you. Do you have anything special in mind regarding this makeover?"

Louisa considered the question for a moment or so, then murmured, "Well, I guess I need to think about what I want to do with my hair, but I'd like to know how I can look good in just a few minutes. I don't wear makeup because I don't like all the time it takes, but Leslie here said you taught her how to use just a little to look really good."

Deborah giggled and said, "Well, thanks for the word of mouth, Miss Leslie. I can do that, Miss Karlsen, no problem, but if you want to keep your new look through the day, we'll have to do your hair first. Do me a favor and take it down, would you?"

Louisa reached up and pulled a series of bobby pins out of the bun, then tugged out the cloth ponytail holder, letting her straight dark-blonde hair spill free. Deborah studied it and whistled low. "Wow. It's been a long time since I saw hair as long as yours."

"I can sit on it," Louisa said. "But it's a pain to wash, you know, and I can't do much with it when it's this long. Either I let it hang or I stuff it into a bun, and letting it hang isn't the most professional thing in the world."

"I get ya," Deborah said, nodding, studying Louisa's hair. "So how much do you want cut, then? You don't have to be drastic. It's possible to have a professional-looking hairstyle without going ultra-short. You do have a really high forehead, and I think a few bangs would frame your face a lot better. Not big thick ones, just nice wisps."

"I thought bangs were for little girls," Louisa said, glancing skittishly at Leslie, who grinned. "Well, I mean, my sister was always saying that…"

"Is this the weather forecaster?" Leslie asked, and Louisa nodded. "Well, not to say anything against her, but it sounds to me like she's sort of bossing you around, if you know what I mean."

"Me too, if you don't mind my saying so," Deborah put in. "You should be the one who decides what kind of look you want, not your sister. And frankly, weather forecasters know less about hair than they do about what the weather's gonna do next week."

Louisa burst out laughing. "Hey, you're cool," she remarked to Deborah. "Okay, I'm going out on a limb. Do you think I'd look good with a side part?"

Deborah took Louisa over and proceeded to wash her thigh-length hair, continuing the discussion of ideas; then Leslie took a chair beside the one in which Deborah ensconced Louisa, watching with interest as Deborah gathered Louisa's hair, pinned most of it atop her head and set about cutting it. In about half an hour Louisa Karlsen was gawking open-mouthed at her reflection; Deborah had cut Louisa's hair to about an inch below her shoulder blades, and had parted it on Louisa's left, brushing a few long wispy bangs across her forehead to the right side and securing it with a little styling gel. "You don't need much," Deborah told her, "since there's not much hair there to hold. What do you think?"

"I don't even recognize myself," Louisa said faintly.

Deborah and Leslie grinned at each other. "You'll make a heck of an impression," said Leslie cheerfully. "And wait till you have the makeup lesson."

Another half hour later, Louisa followed Leslie out of Deborah's salon, her face transformed by expert makeup application in the most basic possible procedure. Deborah had done a wonderful job in bringing out Louisa's latent beauty. "People are probably going to start recognizing you as Toni Karlsen's sister," Leslie observed. "Now that you've had this little morphing act, it's easy to see you're related to her."

"Maybe," Louisa mumbled, compressing her lips.

"What's wrong?" Leslie asked, pausing on the sidewalk.

Louisa gave her a pleading look. "I don't want to be mistaken for Toni. I want to be _me._ That's my fantasy—to be my own special self, not some extension of my sisters."

Leslie smiled. "Believe me, Louisa," she said, "nobody's going to think you're Toni. They'll know you're her sister, but they won't get the idea you're her. I said you look related; I didn't say you look like identical twins. You're a very pretty young lady, you know, and Deborah helped you bring that out. Now let's get you some new clothes."

By lunchtime Louisa was the new owner of five different outfits, everything from casual to business to formal. She had two new pairs of jeans, a smart skirt-and-jacket ensemble suitable for her job, an understated evening dress with a knee-length skirt, and two stylish, colorful shirts. Leslie had to laugh when Louisa spied a pretty T-shirt in the gift-shop window and insisted on going in and buying one in her size. When she came out, she also had a pair of the straw sandals that were woven by women in the fishing village; and she was wearing one of her new pairs of jeans, the T-shirt and a brand-new pair of sneakers. "I feel like someone different already," Louisa exclaimed, swinging her bags and lifting her face to the tropical sun, beaming at the bright blue sky.

"Good," Leslie said, grinning at her expression. "You look different too, and I don't mean the hairstyle and the new clothes." She led Louisa back down toward the town square and around the corner where the café was located, and noticed that the door of Christian's storefront was propped open—unusual for him. "Listen, Louisa, I'm going to drop in on my husband for a minute or two…come with me." Louisa looked surprised, but she agreed, trailing Leslie down the walk.

They discovered that Christian's shop was decidedly crowded, between him, his employees and the rest of the royal family. Louisa hung back just inside the doorway while Leslie scanned the shop and managed to pick out Christian, showing Anna-Laura, Amalia and Carl Johan the new print he had received. "…I ordered the thing easily three months ago, and it finally came just this morning," he was saying, sounding slightly exasperated. "I think I'll probably—" He looked up and cut himself off when he spied Leslie. "Well, look who's here." He grinned when she came up to him, leaning aside to kiss her; her in-laws greeted her warmly. "What brings you over here?" Christian asked.

"I hadn't planned on coming in, but I saw the door open," Leslie said, "and you never do that. Something about wasting the air-conditioning."

Christian laughed. "Yes, normally that's true, but today seemed like a perfect day to let in the breeze. Look here, I was just showing Carl Johan, Amalia and Anna-Laura—that print I ordered back at the beginning of August finally arrived."

"So it did," Leslie said, peering down at the print showing the skyline of Sundborg at night in winter. "That's really pretty. Where do you plan to hang it?"

"We were just asking him that ourselves," Anna-Laura noted. "Speaking of asking questions—do you know someone who can work miracles, Leslie? I desperately need a new cut and style for the wedding, and I need someone who can do suitable makeup."

"My friend Lauren's sister Deborah always does my hair when it needs cutting," said Leslie. "Let me know when you're ready and I'll take you over." She glanced around the shop and noticed Rudolf speaking with Anton—in German, she shortly realized—and Roald sitting in between Julianne and Jonathan, holding a lively conversation with both of them. "Looks like the gang's all here; where's Gabriella?"

"She'd been talking to Beth and needed to take a short break for necessities," Christian replied. "Should be out shortly." He caught sight of an uncertain Louisa hovering in the doorway. "I'm sorry, can I help you?"

"Oh…no…that's okay," Louisa said, shaking her head vigorously and looking alarmed when everyone's attention went to her at the sound of Christian's raised voice.

"She's one of our guests this weekend," Leslie explained. "This is Louisa Karlsen. Louisa, my husband, Prince Christian; his brother Prince Carl Johan and sister-in-law Princess Amalia; and his sister Princess Anna-Laura. This is Prince Roald, sitting here, and back there is Prince Rudolf." Just then Gabriella emerged from the small lavatory and she added quickly, "And there's Queen Gabriella."

"Oh my God," Louisa mumbled audibly and managed a clumsy curtsy, her face red and her eyes very wide. The royal family nodded smilingly in acknowledgement, and Rudolf excused himself from his conversation with Anton and came to join the older members as Christian assured Louisa that she didn't need to worry about formalities.

"It might be nice to be something close to ordinary for a weekend," Gabriella said thoughtfully, pausing beside Beth's desk and peering at Louisa. "Now I wonder why you look so familiar to me?"

"Our guest, Louisa Karlsen," said Leslie. "Her sister is the actress, Toni Karlsen."

"Oh, I see," Gabriella said and smiled. "You do look something like her. I really enjoy her films, and she's a talented actress."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Louisa murmured, looking downcast.

Leslie caught Christian's curious look and knew she'd have plenty of talking to do over lunch at the main house. "When are you free for lunch, my love?"

"Right now, actually," Christian said. He turned to his relatives and went on, "Mariki always puts out a rather impressive spread for the midday meal, if anyone is interested."

"Oh, I am," Jonathan spoke up with a huge grin. "I'll take any chance to eat something Mr. Roarke's cook whips up." Everyone laughed.

"I wouldn't doubt that," Christian retorted lightly. "Perhaps one day if you can keep that forked tongue under a muzzle, I'll reward you with a dessert she's made. Well, so who's going to accompany Leslie and me, then?"

Most of the family decided to come, but Rudolf declined. "Perhaps I'll be there for the evening meal," he said. "I was just speaking to Anton about something, giving my German a much-needed workout. I'll order lunch from room service." He, Roald, Gabriella and Anna-Laura were sharing the Presidential Bungalow, which Leslie had privately joked to Roarke would probably have to be renamed the Royal Bungalow now; Carl Johan and Amalia had made good on their word and were staying at Christian and Leslie's house.

"Then you'll miss out on some excellent food," Roald told his cousin, rising. To Julianne and Jonathan he said, "Call our bungalow when you're off work for the evening. Mother and Gregory are supposed to be honored at a luau tonight, and you're both invited if you'd like to come."

"Sounds great," Jonathan said, "as long as Mariki's making the food for it."

Amid the laughter Leslie teased him, "You brat. Just for that I'll tell Mariki she has the afternoon off from any more cooking." They began to file out; Louisa ducked aside and shyly watched them go. Leslie paused beside her. "Do you need anything else?"

"I guess not," Louisa said slowly. "I might go back to my bungalow and see if Emmy's there, and we can have lunch together. Thanks for helping me, Leslie."

She didn't sound overly enthusiastic, and Leslie wondered why. "Tell you what," she said. "I'll come around after lunch and we'll talk some more, okay? For right now, just take it easy and relax a little. Show Emmy your new clothes." She grinned and was somewhat relieved to get a halfhearted smile in reply. "See you later on." With that she hurried out after Christian and the others.

Louisa, left behind in the computer shop, peered after them for a moment, her mood beginning to sink again. Leslie had been right: people were going to recognize her as Toni's little sister now. She'd been here only half a day, and already her fantasy looked to be a failure. Dejected, she adjusted her grip on her bags and started out the door.

"Wait," said a male voice behind her. "Please."

The proximity of the voice made her stop automatically, and she looked up curiously at the speaker. Her breath left her instantly, for it was Prince Rudolf. "Are you due somewhere else?" he asked.

Louisa stared at him; he looked as if he really wanted to know. Something in her sluggish brain compelled her to curtsy again, which made him grin broadly, causing her stomach to do back flips. Finally she remembered that he'd asked her a question and opened her mouth. "No, I…" It came out as a croak and she felt her face go hot almost instantly. Mortified, she cleared her throat and was relieved to hear her voice return to normal. "I was just going back to have lunch at my bungalow…"

"I see," Prince Rudolf said, his hazel eyes still twinkling with amusement. "I had planned to do the same myself, but now that I think about it, that sounds quite lonely. If you'd like, you and I might have lunch together."

The suggestion sent Louisa into pure shock, and she gaped stupidly at the prince for some ten seconds before blinking and casting a cautious glance around the office; maybe one of her sisters was lurking in the woodwork somewhere, and he'd meant to ask them instead. But only the two women were watching; the Asian girl gave her a quick thumbs-up and a _go for it!_ look. She swallowed, but her throat had gone so dusty dry that it hurt, and her voice came out croaky again. "Are you sure it's me you want to have lunch with?" she asked.

Prince Rudolf chuckled, neatly erasing a little more of Louisa's mind. "Yes, I'm sure," he said with amused patience. "Possibly at the café next door, if that's all right with you."

"Um…oh," Louisa mumbled and closed her eyes briefly at her own idiocy. _More of this, Karlsen, and he'll take back the invitation. And wouldn't that be something for Kristen to laugh at?_ The idea of her older sister's reaction was enough to jar some sense back into her head. Hurriedly she opened her eyes and nodded. "If you're really sure it's me you want to eat with…well, yes, I'd like that, a lot."

Prince Rudolf laughed and said, "Good, I'm glad to hear that—and yes, believe me, it's you I want to share lunch with! Just one moment, please." He turned to say something in German to the stocky blond man sitting near the far wall, and the other man replied with a smile and a nod. Louisa blinked.

"You're working on a business deal?" she asked without thinking.

Rudolf's attention snapped back to her; now he was the one who looked surprised. "Yes, as a matter of fact, we had been talking business," he said. "So you speak German?"

"Some," said Louisa. "I can make conversation, but I'm not as fluent as I probably should be. Maybe I need to brush up on it." Here was a subject she felt comfortable with. "If it's not rude to ask, what sort of business is it?"

"It's a charity my mother promotes," Rudolf said, ushering her out the door and down the walkway toward the café entrance. "I thought perhaps _herr_ Lauterhoff might be acquainted with someone in Germany who needs a job, as the charity has an opening. But that's another subject, and quite boring at that. What I find fascinating is the idea of an American who can speak something besides English." He grinned.

"Well, not all of us are ignorant provincials," Louisa said, affronted.

Rudolf quirked one eyebrow. "Now, don't take offense," he said. "I was merely teasing, though I do find it unusual. Where did you learn German?"

"In college," Louisa said, her face flaming again. She'd suffered so much taunting and ostracism in high school that she could no longer tell the difference between friendly teasing and malignant teasing. "I studied a lot of other stuff too—went to St. Olaf College in Minnesota. I learned not only German, but Swedish and Spanish and Latin and—"

"Swedish?" Rudolf broke in. "Then you and I could communicate in something other than English. My own language, _jordiska_, is very close to Swedish, although we've had some influx from Norwegian, and most of our verbs evolved directly from Old Norse. I expect we could understand each other very easily."

"I'm not that fluent," Louisa said uneasily, chancing a quick look at him over her shoulder as they walked into the café. "I use it once in a while at work, but…"

Rudolf scanned the café, spotted a table he liked and led her to it, waiting till she had sat down before he took his own seat. Then he gave her an expectant look. "But what?"

Louisa was torn. Part of her wanted to flee, just to avoid having to try out her Swedish on a native speaker in close, prolonged contact; the other part of her wanted to stay and savor her time with this prince who had actually taken notice of her. He had such pretty eyes, and his smile seemed to turn her stomach into something alive. "You'd laugh at me if I tried," she finally said straight out.

Rudolf regarded her thoughtfully for a few seconds, then smiled faintly. "You believe so? How do you know until you try?"

"W-well, I…I…" she stuttered, her composure disintegrating like salt in water.

Rudolf seemed to take pity on her; his expression softened. "Why don't we start with something easy," he offered. "I'll simply speak formal _jordiska_ and you can use Swedish, and we'll have a very basic conversation. After all," and here he grinned again, making Louisa's stomach dance, "we do have to get to know each other."

Louisa grinned sheepishly back. "Yeah, we do, I guess. You mean…you mean we'll talk like they do in a beginner's class? With stuff like 'hello, how are you, what's your name' and all that sort of thing?"

"Exactly so," Rudolf said, his grin widening. "Surely you can handle that."

"I suppose I could," Louisa murmured, relaxing. She couldn't read any malice in his eyes, and he seemed genuine and honest, somehow. It might even be fun, speaking in his language. She drew in a deep breath and used her college Swedish to say, "Hello, Your Highness, my name is Louisa Karlsen, and I come from St. Paul, Minnesota. I am very happy to meet you."

Rudolf's eyes widened. "That's excellent—you have a good accent, too!" he exclaimed in English. Embarrassed but pleased, Louisa grinned shyly. "All right, I suppose it's my turn then." In _jordiska_ he told her, "I am Crown Prince Rudolf of Lilla Jordsö, and I am also very happy to meet you, Louisa Karlsen. How old are you, and what of your family, and what do you like to do when you aren't working?"

So far, so good. Louisa cleared her throat and continued speaking in Swedish, going slowly to keep from stumbling. "I'll be 25 next month," she said, "and I have three older sisters, and I like languages and cats. I have two cats named Chocolate and Cinnamon."

Rudolf blinked at that and started to laugh. "Chocolate and Cinnamon!" he echoed. "What imaginative names for cats! What kind of cat are they, then?"

"Siamese," Louisa said. "I had to move out of my apartment because of them, but it was worth it. They're great company." It astonished her to find that speaking in Swedish came easier to her the more she did it; maybe she was just out of practice.

"You should meet my cousin Anna-Kristina," Rudolf remarked. "She loves cats so much, back home she's known as the Princess of Cats. Uncle Christian tells us she has three of them even now, alongside her husband and little daughter."

Louisa grinned at that. "She sounds really nice. Tell me more about your family. I don't really know much about them. What're you doing on this island?"

"We're here for my aunt's wedding," Rudolf explained. "Most of us were able to come for that, except for my cousin Margareta and my older brother Gerhard and his family."

"Oh," said Louisa. "Which ones are your parents?"

Rudolf chuckled. "I suppose I'd better explain the family structure to you. Gabriella, the current queen, is my cousin; she is the middle daughter of my late uncle, King Arnulf II. Arnulf was the oldest of four. My father, Prince Carl Johan, is the secondborn; then my aunt, Anna-Laura; and finally my uncle Christian. Aunt Anna-Laura is the mother of Roald, whom you met in Uncle Christian's office; and Uncle Christian himself is married to Leslie, Mr. Roarke's daughter. They have a set of triplets."

"Oh, that's right…I got to meet the triplets at Mr. Roarke's house," Louisa said and giggled. "They're adorable. Actually, the little boy was chewing on my friend Emmy's thumb the whole time she was talking to Mr. Roarke. Leslie said she thinks he's teething."

"My cousin the cannibal," Rudolf said with a quick laugh. "Hmm…speaking of eating, let's see what we want." They opened their menus and perused the selections, but Louisa could hardly concentrate on the words. For the first time, she was talking to someone, and not stammering and stuttering, or boring the guy to death—and doing it in another language to boot! And not just that, but he was a prince, and he was interested in her! Kristen would turn utterly green if she could see, Louisa knew. Even Toni and Jackie would be impressed. Who'd ever think the mouse of the Karlsen family would be noticed by a prince?

The waitress came by, and Rudolf and Louisa gave their orders, then handed her the menus and settled back. This time, when Rudolf spoke, he used English. "Your Swedish is quite good," he remarked. "I don't think you give yourself enough credit."

Louisa shrugged. "Aw, well…not too many other people give me much credit either, for that matter."

"Why is that?" Rudolf wanted to know.

And just like that, before she realized what she was doing, she was telling him all about her older sisters and their glamorous, exciting lives, and how she just didn't measure up to them. Rudolf listened quietly, his attractive features still and serious; now and then he nodded once or twice, but otherwise didn't react. "So that's why I'm on this island," she said with a sigh, winding up her narrative. "I thought I could find some way to finally be the equal of my sisters. I thought maybe my job would do it. I figured I could get in with some really sharp international organization because of my language studies, and I'd get to travel and so on, except that didn't happen. I'm still just plain old Louisa."

Rudolf regarded her in silence when she stopped speaking, and the longer he sat and studied her, the more uncomfortable she began to feel. Finally he said, "You don't seem so plain to me. Do your sisters speak anything other than English?"

"Well, no," Louisa said and shrugged. "But it's not considered much of an accomplishment to be bilingual."

"In a country where so few people are?" Rudolf asked, astonished. "Are you saying that your sisters think nothing of your ability to speak other languages?"

"It's just not worth that much to them," Louisa insisted, trying to make him see what she meant. "Kristen thinks I'm just dowdy, and she's right. Toni has such a busy life, I don't get to talk to her much, and I'm practically never in touch with Jackie because she's always a step or two behind Toni, making sure the fan club gets all the news on what she's doing."

"Wait, wait," Rudolf broke in, raising a hand to stop her. "What does 'dowdy' mean?"

Louisa struggled a moment. "Well…plain, boring, ordinary. Old-fashioned, I guess."

"_Herregud,"_ Rudolf muttered, shaking his head. "Forgive me, Louisa, but I think your sister Kristen is a fool. I see a very pretty young woman before me—not to mention a very intelligent one. Unfortunately, that woman doesn't believe in herself." He focused on her curiously. "What precisely would have to happen to you to make you feel that you are as 'glamorous', as you say, as you think your sisters are?"

Louisa's mouth fell open and she stared blankly at him. For the life of her, she could think of nothing to say. Rudolf watched her expectantly, and she searched frenetically for some answer to give him. What _did_ she want? It was a question no one had ever come out and asked her directly, and it unnerved her. She blinked helplessly and felt her cheeks growing hot all over again. Rudolf noticed and smiled gently.

"Perhaps I've gone too far," he said, relenting. "Let's just drop it for the moment and enjoy our lunch. Maybe you'll tell me about your job."

"I…" Louisa began, trying not to bite her lip for fear of removing all the lipstick that Deborah had applied less than an hour before. She drew in a breath, saw the encouraging look on Rudolf's face, and ventured shyly, "I'd rather hear about you."

Rudolf smiled slowly, and Louisa's stomach leaped right off a cliff. A dimple formed in his left cheek, curiously and endearingly unmatched in the other one, and his eyes glinted at her. "So," he said, his words as slow as his smile, "you're interested in me?"

"Yeah," she said and hunched her shoulders like a little girl, smiling sheepishly at him. "I hope you don't mind."

Rudolf's slow smile grew into another grin, and then exploded into a laugh that made other patrons turn to look at him with smiles of their own. "To mind your interest in me would be the last thing I'd ever do—not to mention the most foolish," he assured her cheerfully. "Ask me whatever you like."

"Well, give me the basic stuff," Louisa urged hopefully. "Vital statistics and all that boring junk, because I just want to know. And anyway—" She hesitated, then added, "I'd kind of like to know what it's like to be a prince, especially a prince who isn't gonna be the king someday. Hey, by the way, who _is_ the next ruler supposed to be?"

By the time she finished, Rudolf was plastered to the back of his seat, his hands over his stomach, guffawing helplessly. "Louisa Karlsen," he managed after a few minutes, "don't you ever again let anyone, especially your sisters, tell you you're plain or boring, because you most certainly are not! Before I begin—" He stopped, drew in a breath and chuckled again, watching her with sparkling eyes. "Tell me your birthdate, please. You said it's next month, and I find myself wanting to send you a birthday card when it arrives."

Louisa blushed again. Her face got very hot every time she turned red, and besides, Kristen never failed to let her know just how red she was when she heated up like that; so she knew she was blushing like an idiot. "It's November 26," she said.

"November 26," Rudolf repeated and nodded. "And you'll be twenty-five."

"Right," said Louisa, enchanted by his seemingly deliberate notation of the date and the age she would be. "What about you?"

"Ah, well, I'm a little older," Rudolf said, grinning again. "Twenty-nine, to be exact; and my birthday is May 20. My full name, without the title, is Rudolf Harald Reinhold Enstad, and other than being a prince, I am also a landscape architect, after my father. These days Father does more of the planning than anything else, whereas I get out there and do a good bit of the actual planting alongside the three castle gardeners, and occasionally the atrium keeper. There's something very satisfying about setting a plant in the soil and watching it become a healthy and attractive part of the landscape. I've been involved in my share of tree-planting ventures around the country as well, and I'd like to think I'm contributing something worthwhile in the course of my admittedly useless royal existence."

"Useless!" Louisa repeated, stunned by the word.

Rudolf shrugged, but before he could respond the waitress appeared and set their meals before them. When she was gone, he inspected the halibut and stir-fried vegetables on his plate as if unsure they were edible, but continued to talk. "One certainly can't classify being royal as an occupation. Until quite recently it was unthinkable for royalty to hold down a job as commoners do, and even more so for _jordiska_ royalty. It was Uncle Christian who broke that mold. He got interested in computers during the military service he had to do just after his first wife died, and they must have captivated him, because he wanted to make a living working with them. I was a small child at the time, but I can still remember how bewildered and annoyed my grandfather was. He never could understand why Uncle Christian wanted to work with his hands as a commoner. But it seemed to inspire many of the rest of us. My own father had taken a degree in landscape architecture before my grandfather even allowed Uncle Christian to attend university, but that was more acceptable to Grandfather, because Father remained in the castle and applied his talents to family property. Mother was similar; she became Uncle Christian's accountant, but she too stayed in the castle, and Gerhard and I were raised there. I still live there, in fact, and I must admit I have no plans to leave." At last he met her eyes. "Perhaps that's why I refer to my life as 'useless'. Royalty is supposed to be idle rich by definition. If we are not directly in line for the throne, we spend our lives attending social events, perhaps representing various charities, meeting the people…fluff of that sort."

"But…" Louisa floundered for a moment, watching Rudolf tickle loose a flake of meat from the fish. "If you want to, couldn't you go out and work at some landscape job?"

Rudolf raised an eyebrow at her. "Louisa, I'm happy doing what I do. I don't mean to leave you with an incorrect impression. I only meant to explain that a prince who isn't in line for the throne is essentially an appendage." He paused and seemed to consider his own thought for a moment, while Louisa stared at him. "I shouldn't say I'm not in line for the throne, to be honest. I am, but only seventh." He sighed gently and put his fork down. "I suppose what I'm trying to say is that I've reached an age where all those things satisfied me once, but no longer. I think I want more from life."

"Well, then, you could maybe start your own landscaping business…" Louisa began.

Rudolf's expression stopped her cold; his eyes frosted over and he frowned. "I've heard this of Americans…that they feel the only thing that can truly fulfill a person is his occupation. Is there no more to your life than that? Aren't you the one who felt dissatisfied with her job and wanted something more…'glamorous', I believe the word was?" The word _glamorous_ came out with a faint but discernible sneer, and Louisa flinched.

They sat for several minutes in a charged silence. Rudolf's expression had closed over, and Louisa had lost her appetite. She stared miserably at her plate, wishing she had the courage to say something just so she could make an excuse to Rudolf and get out of here. She shifted her gaze up just barely enough to note that the prince had begun eating with some concentration, and instantly returned it to her own plate. Who was she to tell a prince what he ought to be doing? She was a nobody…the Karlsen family mouse…and he was a prince from a powerful ruling family. She really had some nerve; she'd deserved to be put in her place. And he did have a point about her wanting something glamorous. If her job didn't do it, then what the heck would?

Finally she could stand it no longer. "Excuse me," she mumbled, barely audible even to herself, and slid out of the booth, then fled. She didn't stop to think about her actions; all she wanted was to be alone, to get away from this horrible awkward scene. It occurred to her as she broke into a run across the town square that her fantasy for glamour might very well have been fulfilled right there, what with having met a prince—and that she, in her usual socially inept way, had blown it completely.


	3. Chapter 3

§ § § -- October 30, 2004

Emmy was eating lunch alone in the bungalow she and Louisa were sharing when her friend shuffled in the door, head hanging, somewhat out of breath. "Och, Louisa, where've ye been?" she scolded genially. "Thought we were ta eat lunch together."

"I forgot," Louisa muttered, collapsing limply into the nearest chair. "Sorry."

Emmy peered at her. "Ye look lovely wi' yer new haircut an' some better clothes, but somethin's got ye doon, I can see it. Maybe ye'd like to tell me aboot it, if ye want to."

Louisa made a face and looked up. "I don't see the point, it's not going to change anything. What about you? Did you give that DNA sample? What've you been doing all day?"

"I did gi' the sample, and I've been havin' a fine time o' it," Emmy said happily. "It's an amazin' place they run here. Ye should only see the swimmin' pool, Louisa! An' there's a bushel o' bonny lads ta look at while ye soak up the sun. Aye, 'tis paradise for certain."

"I'm glad someone's enjoying it," Louisa said without energy. "As for me, I think I just destroyed my entire fantasy. I blew my chance with a real, live, honest-to-cripes prince."

Emmy bolted ramrod-straight in her seat. "Ye lie, Louisa Karlsen!"

"I wish I were," Louisa said, her eyes finally filling with tears. "If I were, I wouldn't feel so lousy right now. Kristen's right, I'm a total social washout—I'm hopeless."

"Och," snorted Emmy. "Yer sister don't know a thin', an' that's the truth o' it. Ye can't be takin' her word aboot everythin' in yer life, Louisa. Noo ye tell me what happened."

Reluctantly Louisa related what had transpired at lunch with Prince Rudolf. "So that's the upshot of it. I said something stupid and made him mad, and I blew any chance I might ever have with him. If he ever sees me again he'll run like hell the other way."

Emmy got up and slipped an arm around her shoulders, squeezing. "Ah, well, if he takes that much offense over a wee thin' like that, then he's nae worth the time. An' besides, is that really what ye wanted for yer fantasy? Thought ye wanted ta do somethin' that'd make ye as glamorous as yer sisters."

Louisa snorted aloud and brushed away a tear or two. "Oh, Emmy, come on. Dating a prince is the absolute epitome of glamour, and brother, it sure would've made my sisters sit up and take notice. Now there's no way it's gonna happen."

Emmy peered at her and shook her head. "Louisa Karlsen, ye've learned nothin' from this, I think. Yer sisters got their glamour from what they do—on their own—nae from reflectin' other people's glory. If ye want ta make somethin' o' yer life that's more'n what ye ha' noo, then ye've got ta bring it aboot yerself." She folded her arms over her chest. "An' ye know what else? I got a feelin' that prince suspected ye were hopin' ta gain some light off bein' seen wi' him. Ye'd only be usin' the man, Louisa, an' he knows it. Little wonder it is that he was sae cold ta ye!"

"Well, why don't you give me some idea what I could do, instead of telling me what I shouldn't be doing!" Louisa barked out, tears overflowing. "I thought you were my friend, Emmy Campbell, but I wonder!" She leaped out of her chair and slammed herself into her bedroom, then gave in to her tears of frustration.

About ten minutes later there came a soft tapping on her door; Louisa's head came up abruptly and she stared warily at it. "What?" she said cautiously.

"Someone's here ta see ye," Emmy's voice said.

"Who?" Louisa wanted to know.

"Och, Louisa, will ye come oot o' there? I shouldna said it quite sae harsh, I know, but I only wanted ye ta think aboot it. I dinna want our friendship ta end like this."

Louisa rolled off the bed, snagged a tissue out of a box on the dresser and mopped her face before opening the door. "I think maybe I reacted like this because…well, because you told me the truth, and the truth hurts."

Emmy snickered and gave her a swift hug. "Och, that it does. Who's ta say but that the truth'll hurt me as bad when I find oot who ma parents are? Fer all I know they're a pair o' serial killers. But ye're keepin' yer visitor waitin', sae ye better get ta the door. I'll be in ma own room." She winked at Louisa and retreated.

Louisa pulled in a long steadying breath and let it out with a shudder, blotting her eyes one more time on her way across the room. The outside door stood slightly ajar, and she pulled it back, only to freeze in place and stare big-eyed at Prince Rudolf.

"Hello, Louisa," he said and lifted one hand, which held two shopping bags. "You left these behind at the café."

The hope that had begun to rise within her plummeted. "Thanks for bringing them back, Your Highness," she murmured dispiritedly, accepting them. "I'm sorry I made you go out of your way to do that."

"It was the right thing to do," said Rudolf tonelessly, with a shrug. He paused, leaned forward a little and really looked at her. "You've been crying."

"Yup, like the mouse I am," Louisa confirmed sourly. "Don't let me keep you from more important things, Your Highness. You can go now, and I'll go back to feeling sorry for myself, 'cause that's what us mice do best."

Rudolf stood there staring at her; after a bit he shook his head. "Fate save us," he said, "but you must be the most openly emotional woman I've ever met."

"I told you I was a social washout," Louisa said, shrugging hopelessly. "You should meet my sister Kristen. She'd be more your style."

"How do you know what my style is?" Rudolf shot back.

Louisa went still again and gaped at him, then closed her eyes and shook her head in self-disgust. Muttering an extremely dirty word to herself, she gave Rudolf an ironic look. "I'm going back to my room so I don't insult you any further," she said. "Thanks again, Your Highness." With that she started to turn away.

"If you leave, Louisa, I won't be able to ask you the question I wanted to ask—the one I still want to ask, even though I'm not sure I should," Rudolf said, to her great surprise.

Louisa paused, stood quietly and waited. Even as she was standing there wondering why he bothered with her if he thought he shouldn't ask his question, she willed him to ask it anyway. It thrilled her to think that she might still have even the smallest chance with him. She and Rudolf watched each other, he looking a little wary, she feeling foolish and hopeful all at once, even while telling herself not to expect too much.

When Rudolf still held his silence, she swallowed and said in a small voice, "While I have the chance, I should tell you I'm sorry for offending you at lunch. It was really stupid of me…typical, but stupid. I'm sorry, Your Highness."

Rudolf let his shoulders sag and his head fall back, and rolled his eyes. "Why is it 'typical', Louisa?" he asked. "And for fate's sake, drop the damned honorific!"

Louisa felt her eyes fill again, but she spoke anyway, hating the wobble in her voice. "You didn't tell me I could use your name," she pointed out. "And it's typical because I'm always putting my foot in my mouth. Don't ask me why, or you'll be standing there till midnight listening to me tell you."

Rudolf eyed her as though he wasn't sure he ought to believe her; then his head fell forward and he began to chuckle low. "It occurs to me," he remarked presently, "that if we are already treading on each other's sensibilities after having known each other perhaps two hours, there must be something between us that's worth examining." Louisa blinked, her mouth falling open slightly with surprise and sudden hope, and Rudolf looked up and smiled at her. "My question was this—would you accompany me to tonight's luau?"

It felt to Louisa as though the sun had just come up after a long night. "I'd love to," she breathed, overjoyed. "Do I need to dress up?"

Rudolf grinned. "You probably don't _need_ to," he said humorously, "but you can if you like. I have a feeling you'll look breathtaking if you do."

"Then I will," Louisa said with resolve. "I got a new dress and now I have a reason to wear it. What time are we going?"

"I'll come here for you at about five-thirty," Rudolf said.

"I'll be ready," Louisa promised, and she gladly returned his smile before he said goodbye and loped easily down the stairs off the small porch. Slowly Louisa closed the door, her imagination awash in daydreams.

Emmy emerged fully from her bedroom. "Well," she remarked with a grin, "seems ta me ye didn't blow yer chances after all."

"I guess not," Louisa said and giggled. "Will you help me get ready when the time comes? I'll probably have to put on fresh makeup."

"Aye, I can help wi' that. Ye don't need much—whoever 'twas that Mrs. Enstad took ye ta see, she did a fine job. I'll try ma best ta duplicate it, dinna ye worry."

‡ ‡ ‡

It had been a crowded car that had arrived at the Enstads' house, containing Christian and Leslie, Carl Johan and Amalia, and the triplets. Amalia had sat up front between Carl Johan and Christian, and Leslie had been in the back seat with the babies. Now, while Ingrid bustled around preparing supper for the adults, Christian and Leslie sat in the living room feeding the triplets, with Carl Johan and Amalia keeping them company. The babies would be home for the night, under Ingrid's supervision, while the adults went to the luau.

"I still mean to send a message to the president of that company where I got the print of Sundborg for my office," Christian was saying, propping Karina into a partial sitting position against his left arm while helping her hold her bottle with the right hand. "It should never have taken them that long to ship it to me. And you'd think I'd have some clout at least, being royalty."

"Sometimes, my love," Leslie remarked with a grin, "being royalty doesn't make a bit of difference. You said as much when you first came back here so we could be married, and you were describing your frustration with how long it'd take your furniture to get here."

Christian snorted good-naturedly. "Ha," he said. "If celebrities such as actors and rock stars can get services done faster for them, then why not royalty as well?" They all laughed, and at that point the door opened and Rudolf walked in.

"_Hallå då,_ son," Carl Johan said in surprise. "We didn't expect to see you here. How did you get here?"

Rudolf flopped into the last empty chair. "I thought you were at Mr. Roarke's house, but he told me you had all come back here, so he put a driver at my disposal to bring me out here. Aunt Anna-Laura is in a frenzy, between trying to ready herself for the luau and all the endless wedding preparations, and Roald told me I was probably better off getting out of the way." He surveyed the adults and his infant cousins. "I see it's feeding time."

"You say that as if you've just walked into a barnyard," Christian remarked.

Rudolf quirked an eyebrow, very much in his uncle's fashion, and riposted, "Well, with three babies, don't you think it bears a fair resemblance to one?" That earned him boos from Christian and Leslie, and laughter from his parents; he grinned and relaxed in his chair, slinging one leg easily over the other. "I presume you're all going to the luau."

"We plan to," said Amalia. "Why do you ask? Are you begging off?"

"No, not at all," Rudolf said. "I only thought it would be wise to inform you that I'll be there with a young lady, so that you wouldn't be too shocked."

Carl Johan and Amalia looked at each other. "So," Carl Johan mused after a moment, "even here on Fantasy Island, you've managed to find another conquest."

"Am I missing something?" Christian interjected curiously.

"Oh," said Amalia, "it's only that since he and Liliana Altenius went their separate ways some time ago, he's been quite the womanizer. He seems to have some trouble deciding exactly what he wants."

Rudolf eyed his mother. "On the contrary, Mother, I know precisely what I want. I want a girl who's self-assured enough not to be overwhelmed by my being a prince, and I also want a girl who doesn't focus only on that and nothing else."

"Like your uncle," Carl Johan murmured, exchanging a knowing, reminiscing look with Christian.

"Of course, why not? Now if I can be as fortunate as Uncle Christian finally was when he found Aunt Leslie, I'd never ask for anything else as long as I live."

"Oh, where have I heard that before?" sighed Amalia, setting off laughter.

"What made you split up with Liljan?" Leslie asked curiously.

Rudolf sighed and said, "In the end it came down to simple incompatibility. It seems to happen to married couples all the time; they stay together a few years, discover they no longer like the same characteristics about each other that made them fall in love in the first place, and split up. And atop that, Liljan's personality had begun to change, at least from my point of view. When I met her, she was devoted to the cause of that charity she worked for; when we broke up, her focus was more on getting herself into the limelight as the longtime companion of Prince Rudolf, and she was beginning to talk marriage. Her true colors had come out by then, and I decided it was time to finish it. The gossip mills were after me for months, and I had to take cover for a while."

Leslie nodded thoughtfully. "So tell us about this girl you've found."

"She baffles me," Rudolf confessed readily, glancing around at his parents and aunt and uncle. "She claims to be overshadowed by her older sisters and wants to be glamorous, as she thinks they are."

"Hey, that sounds like our guest Louisa Karlsen," Leslie said.

"It is," Rudolf told her, making her blink. "After the rest of you left for lunch, I saw her there waiting by the door, and I thought she looked quite pretty and perhaps a little lost. So I invited her to lunch." He scowled and shook his head. "I admit to being strongly attracted to her, but I can't understand why. She still calls me 'Your Highness', and she has a very low opinion of herself, even though she's clearly much more intelligent than any other girl I've ever taken an interest in. She's pretty, but she doesn't seem to realize it."

"She has something of an inferiority complex, judging from Father's and my discussion with her this morning," Leslie explained and went on to give Rudolf Louisa's background. "She said she thought her knowledge of languages would give her the opportunity to travel, but it didn't."

"She mentioned that," said Rudolf, all his attention on his aunt. "The lunch started out so well, but then it simply fell apart." He described what had happened.

Leslie nodded and adjusted her hold on Tobias and Susanna. "You were right about her intelligence. She's a very brainy young lady, but it cost her socially. She had no friends in either high school or college, and what with her sisters being so successful, it probably made her feel that much more unworthy. She says the friend she came to the island with is the only one she's had in years, and I'd be willing to bet good money she's never had a real boyfriend." She smiled. "You saw Louisa after her physical transformation. When she first got here this morning, her hair was tucked up into a bun and she was wearing clothes that made her look like an old-fashioned stereotypical librarian."

Rudolf's eyebrow went north again. "Ah, I see," he murmured. "I suppose you took her in hand and effected that lovely transformation I saw."

Leslie grinned at that. "You could say that. She did say she wanted to change the way she looked anyway, and I think it did her some good." She looked around at the others. "My gosh, you should have seen her when I took her into Deborah's salon. She let her hair down, and wouldn't you know but it hung past her rear end. I've never seen anyone with hair that long, at least in person. Deb cut it back to a little longer than mine, restyled it for her and taught her to use makeup." She shook her head, glancing down at Susanna and Tobias again. "Trouble is, changing the way you look doesn't change the way you feel at the core. She still has that inferiority complex, and it's going to take more than makeup, new clothes and a new hairstyle to change that."

"You may have flustered her, Rudolf," Christian remarked humorously. "From the sound of it, you could be the only male who's ever paid positive attention to her."

Rudolf rolled his eyes. "I don't think I need that burden," he grumbled. "Perhaps I should simply treat her as nice company for one evening and then move on."

"But you said you're strongly attracted to her," Carl Johan pointed out. "I daresay you could benefit from a change in the type of woman you usually keep company with. Liljan was nice, but quite high-society, and so were the first three women you briefly dated after her. Then you shocked the family when Magga caught you with that servant in the east corridor last spring."

Rudolf shifted in his chair and glowered at his father. "I don't think Uncle Christian and Aunt Leslie wanted to hear that."

"It sounds rather like the rumor that went around about you and that kitchen servant from Träskebotten, back when you were about eighteen," Christian remarked casually to Carl Johan. "It wouldn't be unprecedented."

Carl Johan shot Christian a disapproving look. "You were ten, Christian Carl Tobias, and that's old enough for you to recall that I let it be known that nothing ever happened with that girl. For fate's sake, she was helping me practice _violsdansen_!"

Christian smirked. "That isn't what the rumor mill was saying, and Father bought right into it. You'd better think about that before you judge your son for whatever dalliance he may have been indulging in."

Amalia and Leslie, both of whom had been listening avidly in on the brothers' byplay, looked at each other and giggled merrily. "Don't you wish we could've seen that?" Leslie asked, and Amalia nodded gleefully as they both started laughing again.

Rudolf, chuckling, seemed to relax. "It meant nothing, really," he said. "She was an attractive girl and I was feeling lonely. I wouldn't have been the first royal to conduct an affair with a servant, whether Father slept with one himself or not."

Carl Johan tried to quell Rudolf with a look, but Rudolf just grinned at him, along with Christian and the still-giggling women. "All right," he finally growled, "that's enough. What exactly is the point of all this, Rudolf? Are you having second thoughts about bringing the young lady to the luau with you?"

"No, that isn't it," Rudolf said slowly, turning inward and considering it. "I just don't have any patience with her self-criticism, I think." He looked up. "I'm feeling restless lately, as if there's something missing in my life, and I went so far as to mention it to her. Her solution was so very American. She said I should expand my interest in landscaping and open my own business. That wasn't what I meant when I said my life isn't full!"

Leslie glanced at Christian, who was chuckling silently. "Well, Rudolf, did you clarify it for her, then?" she asked.

Rudolf opened his mouth, then froze with realization and finally grunted, "No."

"Uh-huh," Leslie mused. "So what's missing?"

The young prince cursed softly in his own tongue and said reluctantly, "I must be getting soft. I think I'm ready for marriage and a family."

"I get it," Leslie said. "You have a point; there _is_ a common American attitude that your career should provide a lot of self-satisfaction and a sense of achievement. When I was very little, it was enough for most women to be wife and mother, and it was not only accepted, but approved of. Today it's a lot different, for a lot of reasons. Women have come a long way in the professional world, and they don't want to lose that; plus, the cost of living tends to require more than one paycheck in most families, and they expect a much higher standard of living from those paychecks as well." She noticed Christian's, Carl Johan's and Amalia's fascinated attention on her and smiled faintly, adding, "Being a wife and mother is no less noble than it ever was. Trouble is, American society no longer accepts that as being enough for a woman. If a woman is a stay-at-home mom, people think she's wasting her life. The American woman is supposed to want a career, at least in addition to family if not in place of it. Women's pursuit of equality has left certain aspects of American life in the dust."

Rudolf was staring at her now, his expression incredulous and his mouth open. "So that's why Louisa said what she did?"

"Possibly," Leslie said. "Not only that, but she couldn't have known that you're beginning to consider marrying and having kids. That's another thing about Americans. Men are generally seen as commitment-shy. Obviously it's not true of all men, but it's sort of a running joke." She smiled sympathetically at Rudolf. "In short, I think you and Louisa were the victims of culture clash. Being an American, she sees things a certain way, and she has no idea what it's like in Lilla Jordsö. For that matter, neither do I, really."

"On the whole, it's not so different from the United States," Christian said with a shrug. Karina let go of the nipple of her bottle and he tilted it upright, glancing at the level of formula remaining in it before setting it aside. "Most _jordskvinnor_ want to be on their own for a few years at least before they find a man and settle down. But career isn't the driving force in _jordisk_ life, for either women or men. When a _jordisk_ wife has a child, she's almost guaranteed to be a breast-feeding mother—more than ninety percent of mothers in Lilla Jordsö breast-feed their babies. And as in the rest of Europe, there's generous leave time for women who have given birth. A woman can stay home with her child and receive a goodly percentage of her pay till the child is eighteen months old in Lilla Jordsö; and at the same time, fathers can take up to eight weeks after the baby's birth." Karina burped and he grinned, lifting her off his shoulder and settling her into his lap so that she could see her relatives. "To sum up, career is important enough in Lilla Jordsö, but it's not valued above marriage and childbearing as it seems to be in the States. Generally there's a proper balance between the two, and there's no stigma if a woman decides to abandon a career to devote herself to raising her children."

"Exactly so," said Carl Johan, "and if a woman marries early and prefers to be a housewife and later a mother as well, it's accepted without question, and it isn't seen as wasting her life. Not everyone can be a star in the corporate world, after all. There are only so many such positions in any field. If both parents place work above the rearing of a family, we can't expect the next generation to have a proper guiding hand as they grow up."

"That makes sense to me," Leslie said a little wistfully. "I work because I love my job. If I worked at something I hated or just didn't care about, I'd be happy to quit and stay home with the babies. Christian asked me early in my pregnancy if I really wanted to go on working, and I explained it to him that way. I remember as a child, my big dream was to grow up, marry a nice guy who knew how to love his wife and children and treat them right, and raise babies, after my mother's example."

"That's a noble ambition to me," Rudolf said and frowned. "From what Louisa said about devoting my time to a landscaping business, I wonder if she has that same attitude, that career is ultimately more meaningful and fulfilling than marrying and raising children."

"She might very well want nothing more than marriage and family," Leslie said. "I don't know that for a fact, but you can't jump to conclusions about her. I think both of you made that mistake, and that's what wrecked your lunch together. My advice is to stay away from heavy topics like that this evening, and just enjoy her company."

Something in Rudolf's expression cleared and he smiled broadly, then unexpectedly got up and went to plop a kiss on Leslie's cheek. "Now I see why Mr. Roarke made you his assistant. That's excellent advice, and I'll gladly take it. Thank you, Aunt Leslie."

Leslie grinned. "That's what Father pays me to do. Now I think you ought to head back to your bungalow and change your clothes, because I was with Louisa when she got her new things—and something tells me she's planning to dress up tonight."

Rudolf snorted teasingly, "Did Mr. Roarke teach you to read minds as well?" Amid the laughter, he chuckled. "I'll do that, if someone doesn't mind driving me back."

"I'll take care of it," Christian said. "Amalia, if you'll be so kind as to amuse Karina for a while, I'll drive Rudolf back to the bungalow, and perhaps something miraculous will take place at that luau, other than Anna-Laura's not unraveling in public."


	4. Chapter 4

§ § § -- October 30, 2004

The luau was in full swing when Rudolf and Louisa walked into the clearing, with Emmy behind them. Emmy had protested from the start that they didn't need to take pity on her, but both Rudolf and Louisa had insisted she come with them. "You were happy enough to party all day," Louisa scolded her friend, "and now just because you don't have an escort, you want to sit at home like I always do. If I'm going out, so are you. All you have to do is sit around and wait for Mr. Roarke to contact you anyway, so why not have fun?"

So here they were, on the edge of a crowd, and Louisa bit her lip before remembering she was wearing lipstick. After all the work Emmy had done with her, she didn't want to ruin the effect; and she liked the intrigued look Rudolf gave her every now and then. What she cared less for were big crowds like this; they always seemed to remind her of office Christmas parties, which never failed to be awkward and embarrassing. She sneaked a glance at Rudolf and saw him standing on tiptoe, scanning over people's heads as if looking for someone he knew. He must have seen her from the corner of his eye, for he turned to look back. "Is something wrong?"

"Awful lot of people, for your aunt's engagement party," Louisa said.

Rudolf chuckled. "True, but then again, I understand that the Saturday-night luau is a staple of weekends here, and we certainly never asked for this to be a closed celebration. In any case, the engagement announcement is scheduled for midnight, after the majority of the guests have gone for the night. Are you hungry? I can't find anyone in my family, so we may as well look over the buffet and see what there is to eat."

"That sounds good," Louisa agreed. "My stomach's growling."

"Well, you never finished lunch," Rudolf joshed her gently, and she promptly turned red, responding with a sickly little smile. He laughed and lightly rested a hand between her shoulder blades. "Come with me, we'll try to fix that noisy stomach."

"Am I invited too?" Emmy queried from behind them.

"Of course," Rudolf said grandly. "I'd never pass up a chance to escort two pretty women at once. Just follow me, ladies." Emmy snickered; Louisa wondered whether he was playacting or if he really meant that. But she kept her doubts and worries to herself and willingly accompanied Emmy and Rudolf to the buffet, which turned out to be laden down with an enormous variety of fruits, both tropical and not. There were also assorted _hors d'oeuvres_ and several different beverages, and four huge trays of raw vegetables with dip. The smiling natives attending the tables handed out sturdy paper plates and plastic forks, and the three of them worked their way down the table, slowly loading their plates. Louisa found herself watching what Rudolf chose, and noticed he stuck primarily with fruits and veggies, forgoing the dip. She tried to emulate him, but she couldn't resist the French-onion dip that went with one of the vegetable trays and dropped a generous dollop on her plate.

"Och, that looks fattenin'," Emmy commented, grinning. "I'll take a double servin'." Louisa giggled at that, and Rudolf glanced at her and smiled at the sound.

Somehow they found places to sit and passed the time munching on their goodies and making conversation. Mostly Rudolf and Emmy carried the conversation, though Louisa really tried to contribute her share. Rudolf, to his credit, listened attentively to her when she spoke, but she didn't often get the opportunity because Emmy—always the gregarious one—had a lot to say about a lot of things, and sometimes unintentionally cut Louisa short with her own comments. After several instances of this, Louisa fell silent and resorted to people-watching, as she usually did at those wretched office holiday parties.

Emmy eventually got up to refill her plate, and Rudolf turned to Louisa. "You've had little to say of late," he noted questioningly.

The damned blush came back; Louisa wished she weren't so easily embarrassed. "It's kind of hard when you're with a motormouth like Emmy," she said with a silly little smile. "I wish I had Emmy's gift of gab. Maybe I'd have more friends."

"You might notice," Rudolf said with practiced casualness, "that I haven't really said a great deal myself. Emmy certainly does enjoy talking, but at times it's nice to simply sit with someone and enjoy their company."

Louisa peered uncertainly at him. Was he referring to her, the way they had been sitting here beside each other, placidly munching away on mango and raw carrots? "It can really be a relief not to have to run my mouth all night," she confessed.

Rudolf met her gaze and raised that eyebrow again, as if it were some unconscious habit he wasn't even aware of. Whatever it was, Louisa found it as enchanting as the rest of him. "I must be out of practice with my slang," he said. " 'Run your mouth'?"

"Talk a lot," Louisa said, and his face cleared with comprehension.

"I see. So you are quiet by nature," Rudolf remarked. "It's an unusual quality in women, in my experience."

"Then I must be a real novelty to you," Louisa said, hoping she had put the right spin of joviality in her tone. Rudolf peered sharply at her for a second, then half-smiled.

"I find you refreshing that way, actually," he said. "Listen—while your friend was chattering away, I saw several of my family arrive. Let me introduce you to my aunt and her fiancé before their attention is hopelessly distracted." He arose and she automatically followed, mimicking his actions as he picked up his empty plate and dropped it in a trash can on his way. Louisa doubted Emmy would be too upset with her and Rudolf for defecting; Emmy always found it easy to make friends, since people tended to be drawn not only to her naturally cheery disposition but her charming Scottish lilt as well.

They finally reached the couple in question—a pretty, dark-haired woman in her early fifties, with hazel eyes and laugh lines, her straight hair cut in an enchanting wispy bob and her smile genuine, if slightly reserved; and a weather-worn man some years older, his hair mostly gray, his eyes a piercing, unnerving blue, but whose guarded look softened every time he looked at his fiancée. The woman brightened when she spotted Rudolf and said in _jordiska_, "Oh, there you are! Your parents and Christian and Leslie are off with Mr. Roarke, and Roald and Briella have disappeared somewhere, I don't know where." She spied Louisa. "Who's your friend?"

Louisa quickly curtsied and said politely in Swedish, "I'm happy to meet you, Your Highness. My name is Louisa Karlsen."

Rudolf grinned widely at his aunt's startled look. "I suppose there's nothing for me to say, is there? I met her earlier today—she's visiting the island from Minnesota in the US."

Princess Anna-Laura blinked and gaped at Louisa, stunned enough to go on using _jordiska_. "An American who knows our language! Are you _jordisk_, then, young lady?"

"No, Your Highness, I'm actually Norwegian and Swedish," Louisa explained in the latter tongue. It amazed her how close Swedish and _jordiska_ actually were; maybe she should do some research on the two languages after she got home. "By ancestry, that is. I was born and raised in the United States."

"That makes it much more amazing," Anna-Laura remarked, clearly impressed. She eyed Rudolf with a teasingly jaundiced look and said, "I think you'd better keep this one, young man." Rudolf chuckled, and she grinned back and hugged him. "Before you vanish again, you should properly meet the man you'll be calling uncle soon. Gregory, this is my nephew, Rudolf, Carl Johan's younger son. Rudolf, this is Gregory Nordeman."

The men shook hands while Louisa watched, wondering if Nordeman knew _jordiska_ as well, since Anna-Laura didn't switch to English for the introductions. "We've heard quite a little bit about you," Rudolf remarked to Gregory, "but Aunt Anna-Laura forgot to inform us that you speak _jordiska_."

"That's a fairly recent development," Gregory told him, "but luckily for me I have an ear for languages. I needed it, in my business, and in any case, you're probably aware that I'll be closing up my home here on the island and living in the castle with Anna-Laura."

"Another piece of news we didn't hear," Rudolf observed with an arch look at his aunt. "It seems to me you need to spend a little more time with the family!"

"It's been hectic," Anna-Laura said apologetically. "I think it may have to wait till the reception, but certainly better late than never." They chatted for a couple of minutes before Louisa noticed that Gregory Nordeman was standing still, his gaze fixed on something off in the crowd. He stood like that for several minutes, as if watching intently, before suddenly coming to life again.

"Honey," he said to Anna-Laura, catching her in the middle of a sentence, "I've got to talk to Mr. Roarke about something. I'll be back in a few." He barely waited for her nod before ducking into the crowd.

"Urgent business?" Rudolf asked, idly curious.

Anna-Laura looked after Gregory for a moment, then made an accepting moue and said, "I'm sure it has something to do with finding caretakers for his house here. Have you found someone yet to fill that vacant position in your mother's pet charity?" And they were off and talking again; Louisa tuned in, and as they talked she suddenly had a crazy, wonderful idea. Behind her back she quietly crossed her fingers.

‡ ‡ ‡

Several minutes earlier, Emmy Campbell had spied Roarke talking with Christian and Leslie near where the band was playing some soft, sleepy Hawaiian melody, and she wiggled her way over to them through throngs of human beings. Roarke saw her first and smiled a welcome. "Are you enjoying yourself, Miss Campbell?" he asked.

"Aye, Mr. Roarke, 'tis lovely, every wee bit o' it. But I thought, long as I was here, I should take the chance an' ask ye if there's been enna word," she said earnestly.

Roarke nodded, glancing at Leslie. "While we have not found anything conclusive, we do know one thing: there was no kidnapping on record anywhere in the British Isles during late 1978 or early 1979."

Emmy blinked. "Then it must hae been a black-market thin', as ye said, Mrs. Enstad."

"Well, we didn't stop there," Leslie told her. "We expanded our search to kidnappings outside Great Britain and Ireland, and the only one that matches the approximate time frame of your arrival in the Campbell family was one that happened in the United States."

"Indeed," Roarke said. "It was an unsolved kidnapping that occurred in February 1979. The one-year-old daughter of a wealthy publishing magnate was taken from her home that month, and no trace was ever found of her."

Stunned, Emmy gazed blankly at him. Finally, inanely, she managed, "But I'm Scots, nae American…"

"We don't know if it's you, Emmy," Leslie said gently. "That's the reason for the DNA sample. We're going to do some matching up and find out if it gets any results."

"Och," Emmy mumbled. "That would hae been some shockin' success ma father had, if I'm the wee lass taken from America." She focused on Roarke. "Ye'll let me know soonest, Mr. Roarke, won't ye?"

"The moment we know for certain, Miss Campbell," Roarke promised.

She nodded, the dazed look lingering about her. "Aye, then, thank ye…" With that she wandered away, looking for all the world as though the light had gone from her.

"Poor girl," Christian murmured sympathetically. Leslie looked up at him, and then they were startled by the abrupt arrival of Gregory Nordeman, whose face was pale and filled with anxiety.

"That young woman who just walked away from you," he said without preamble. "Can you tell me who she is? Where she's from?"

"She's one of our guests, Mr. Nordeman," Roarke said. "May I ask why?"

"Because she looks exactly like Delilah," Nordeman told him, his eyes straying out to the crowd as if forced, clearly searching for Emmy who had already been swallowed in the crush of people. "And I have to know why."

§ § § -- October 31, 2004

It was very late at night, or perhaps very early in the morning; either way, it was dark and the luau had finally ended. Rudolf and Louisa strolled slowly along a path lit by a moon a night or two past full, both sated with plenty of good food, talked out, pleasantly tired and taking a quiet pleasure in being together. Louisa found herself wishing Rudolf would take her hand, or that she had the courage to take his.

"Have you ever been to a luau before this?" Rudolf asked lazily after a while.

"No, that was my first one," Louisa said. "My sister Toni lives in Hawaii and I visited her there a few years ago, but somehow we never got to a luau. It was really great."

Rudolf chuckled. "It's very exotic. This entire island is very exotic, in fact. I sometimes think that if it hadn't been for Uncle Christian, we never would have known of its existence, and now this place and my own home country are linked forever. My cousin Briella was talking to Mr. Roarke earlier about ambassadorships! It really made Aunt Leslie laugh. She said this island is just too small for bureaucratic gestures like that."

"Yeah," said Louisa, getting into the spirit, "and just imagine, they'd have to start sending ambassadors to a couple hundred other countries…and accepting theirs in return! It'd be chaos! They'd have to build all kinds of housing for these people, and there'd have to be lotteries in countries all over the world so the choice of ambassador would be fair, 'cause candidates would be fighting like mad to get a chance to come here."

Rudolf laughed aloud, the sound echoing through the trees and cutting off a night crier in the midst of its melancholy song. "That's totally believable…this island is just that popular. I think Mr. Roarke will have to either turn Briella down outright, or try to think of some creative alternative."

Louisa giggled and said, "If anyone can gracefully refuse a queen, it'd have to be Mr. Roarke." Rudolf chuckled again and they fell quiet once more, but this time he wrapped his hand around hers and sent a hot-and-cold thrill shivering through her.

They didn't speak again till they were standing on the porch of the bungalow Louisa shared with Emmy; the moon, peeking bashfully through the palms, threw feathery shadows across the grass, the steps, and the two of them. Crickets sang homage to the moonlight; fireflies tried to imitate it, winking frenetically all around them; and the distant night crier still pleaded for sympathy. Louisa stared out over the softly silvered scene and mumbled, "Did you ever think that night's a lot more interesting than daytime?"

She looked up in time to catch Rudolf's amused look. "As a matter of fact," he said softly, "night is my favorite part of a day. If I couldn't sleep, I'd go to the window in my room and push it up so I could see out properly, and listen to the ocean washing on shore, and pretend on certain nights that I could walk along that path of moonlight and take my place among the stars."

Louisa ventured, "I always thought that if there was gold at the end of the rainbow, there must be silver at the end of the moonlight trail."

Rudolf smiled at that. "Did you come up with these lovely, whimsical thoughts when you needed to console yourself after a bad day at school, perhaps?"

"All the time," Louisa admitted. "I turned out to be pretty crummy at writing poetry, but I kept a notebook full of those thoughts. I still have it someplace."

"I'd like to see that notebook someday," Rudolf said, just above a whisper, before leaning forward and gently pressing his lips against hers. Louisa watched him approach her with wide eyes, and only when she saw his eyes slip closed did she realize she was supposed to do the same. But when his lips met hers and she did close her eyes, it had nothing to do with the alleged necessity of the act. She did it because it intensified the sensation of his mouth on hers.

His chaste kiss was brief, but it left a lasting impression on Louisa. When Rudolf pulled back, she stared up at him in sheer wonder, her mouth open slightly, her eyes huge in the moonlight. A smile crossed his features and he shook his head a little, just once, before saying gently, "Good night, Louisa, and thank you for being with me."

"Th…thank you for wanting me to be with you," Louisa said, artless but heartfelt. At that Rudolf grinned, lifted the hand that he'd been holding all this time and kissed the back of it, then released her and trotted briskly down the steps and into the night. Slowly Louisa let herself into the bungalow and got ready for bed in something of a trance, all the while with the feeling that maybe she'd walked into the wrong fantasy and it was going to wind up just like Cinderella.


	5. Chapter 5

§ § § -- October 31, 2004

It was still fairly early; Roarke and Leslie had finished breakfast less than half an hour before, and the triplets were keeping them company in the study, while Leslie sat on the Victorian loveseat scheduling fantasies through the remainder of the year and the first of the next. The babies were well occupied: Tobias sat propped against a pillow that leaned on a chair leg, gnawing contentedly on a chew toy that Christian had picked up for him in town the previous afternoon; Karina was learning the texture of the elegant Persian rug under her tiny hands; and Susanna was on the seat beside Leslie, also supported by a throw pillow, studiously fingering the thick golden chain band of her mother's wristwatch. Now and then Leslie checked each baby, smiling at her daughters' fascination with inanimate objects and occasionally blotting excess drool off Tobias' chin with a soft old hand towel.

Then the door popped open and Gregory Nordeman strode in, making all three triplets turn to stare at him, though Tobias didn't stop chomping on his toy. Leslie, too, looked up in surprise and watched him head straight for Roarke's desk.

Roarke looked up and smiled in welcome. "Good morning, Mr. Nordeman, may I help you? You appear to be on an urgent mission."

"I am," Nordeman said. He might soften up around Anna-Laura, Leslie reflected; but he hadn't changed much otherwise. When he wanted something, he wouldn't stop till he got it. "That young lady I saw last night, the one who looked like Delilah: I want to know who she is and what she's doing here."

Roarke regarded him for a moment, frowning slightly. "Mr. Nordeman, I must remind you of my policy concerning my guests. Their privacy is important to me, and one of my cardinal rules here is to respect that privacy at all times."

"Excuse me, Mr. Nordeman, but who's Delilah?" Leslie broke in then.

Nordeman turned to her with an eager look, as if he thought he might get information from her in the face of Roarke's refusal. "Delilah was my late first wife. You might recall that I had three children with her; one of them was kidnapped in early 1979, my daughter Robia. Robia always closely resembled Delilah, and so does that young woman." He turned back to Roarke when Leslie only nodded understanding. "If you won't tell me who she is, then can you bring her over here?"

"If I have a good reason to do so, yes," Roarke said guardedly.

"I'm giving you a good reason," Nordeman barked impatiently. "I want to know if that girl is Robia. Isn't that good enough for you?"

Roarke considered it for a moment, till Nordeman began to visibly shift his weight; then he said, "Before I do anything, I think you should explain yourself and your actions, which I find rather presumptuous."

"Fine," Nordeman said. He sat down and made himself comfortable, as if he were preparing to stay for the day. "I have a perfect right to know. As soon as that DNA lab opened on this island, I went in and gave them a sample of mine—I might not ever have really believed Robia could be found, but I wanted to leave all the possibilities open. I guess I just never wanted to totally give up hope. This morning before I came over here, I went to the lab and asked for information on the girl." He met Roarke's chilling gaze with a sour look of his own. "You've got 'em well trained, Roarke, I'll give you that. They wouldn't tell me anything about her. _But_—" here he leaned forward, a light of triumph in his piercing eyes— "I did get them to agree to compare my DNA sample with hers."

"I hope it cost you a pretty penny, Mr. Nordeman," Roarke said coldly.

"It did," Nordeman told him without batting a lash.

Leslie put in, "How did you know she left a DNA sample at all?"

Nordeman turned to eye her with a somewhat smug look on his face. "I had meant to catch up with her and ask her a few pertinent questions, but it turned out I didn't have to. When I did get close to her, she was talking to a couple folks with Scottish accents, just like hers. She mentioned that she was here in the hope of finding her folks and had left a DNA sample, in case something matched. It was all I needed to know. I paid the lab not only to do the comparison, but to put a priority on it."

Karina began to whimper, and Leslie set the date book and a small stack of envelopes on the table and lifted her off the floor, settling her into her lap. "Just how closely does she resemble Delilah, then?" she asked, wrapping a protective hand over Karina's tummy while the baby settled down and began to poke at Leslie's rainbow-gem bracelet.

Nordeman studied her, then looked at Roarke and said in an aching voice, "She could be Delilah reincarnated, the way she looked when I married her."

Roarke nodded slowly a few times, but the chill remained in his dark eyes, and his voice was cool and formal. "Since you have chosen to take matters into your own hands, Mr. Nordeman, my advice to you is to devote the proper attention to your wedding to Princess Anna-Laura this afternoon, and hold your silence until such time as we receive the results. I will call the lab and tell them to give me the findings when they have reached a conclusion, and I will then contact you and the young lady in question. Until then, I suggest you exercise patience. I will not tolerate such flagrant breaches of my guests' privacy by anyone, including you. Therefore, you are hereby notified that the matter has been taken out of your hands, and you will learn the results when I receive them—not a moment before."

Susanna began to cry a little beside Leslie, as if sensing her grandfather's cold anger; Tobias had actually stopped munching on his teething toy and looked as if he might start to bawl at any moment as well. Leslie smoothed Susanna's hair in soothing motions, watching Nordeman and Roarke with a carefully expressionless face.

Nordeman, staring at Roarke with a thwarted look, finally grumbled something unprintable under his breath and pushed himself to his feet. "All right, Roarke, fine, you're in control again," he snapped. "But if you don't give me the news the absolute second you find out yourself, I'll make sure you regret it."

"Are you threatening me, Mr. Nordeman?" Roarke asked, his words deliberate and spaced. The temperature in the room dropped another ten degrees. "You are crossing a line, and if you don't back down, you will be the one with regrets."

Nordeman must have seen something in Roarke's eyes, for he stilled a few seconds, then very slowly began to back away. Raising his hands in surrender, he said, "Okay, okay, I accept your terms. I, uh…gotta get ready for my wedding." With this mumbled excuse, he turned and hastened out of the house.

"The winnah and still cham-peen," Leslie drawled humorously, grinning at Roarke.

Roarke laughed softly, perhaps a little wearily, and arose from the desk to come and sit in the chair Tobias was propped against. Lifting his grandson up and settling him into his lap, he said, "It's merely a matter of reminding the man who was boss." He winked at Leslie, and she began to laugh, rubbing Susanna's back and Karina's stomach.

‡ ‡ ‡

The phone rang in Louisa and Emmy's bungalow about eleven that morning, and Louisa waited through three rings before springing out of her bedroom and grabbing it in the middle of the fourth. "Hello?"

"I had begun to think no one was there," said Prince Rudolf's voice, making Louisa grin broadly. In that moment she forgave Emmy for not having picked up the phone.

"Well, I am, at least," Louisa said. "How'd you sleep last night?"

"As well as possible, considering the fact that I'm sharing this bungalow with my aunt and two cousins," Rudolf said, chuckling wearily. "I thought about going to ask Mr. Roarke if he had a spare room in his home. I should have taken my parents' cue and stayed with Uncle Christian and Aunt Leslie." He chuckled again, in tandem with Louisa this time. "Ah, well, no matter. I really have nothing to do with the wedding, so I decided it was wisest to do as I did yesterday and get out of the way of those who do. And with that in mind, I thought I would ask if you'd like to try again to have lunch at the café."

"Gosh," Louisa said with uneasy humor, "I sure hope we don't get the same waitress we had yesterday."

Rudolf laughed. "If we do, we'll simply pretend we have amnesia." Louisa exploded into giggles, and she heard his appreciative chortling on the other end. "If it's enough time for you, I'll come to get you at eleven-thirty."

"Great, I'll be ready," Louisa said, and on that note hung up the phone and ran into her room to change clothes and brush her hair. The makeup techniques Deborah had taught her and Emmy had reinforced were simple enough for her to follow them with little trouble, and when she finished she hunted through the bungalow for Emmy without success. She did, however, find a note: _"Don't worry about me, I'm back out enjoying the easy tropical life. Should be back by half past three at latest. Love, Emmy."_

Thus reassured, Louisa repacked most of her things in her suitcase, ran her brush through her hair again and went out onto the porch to wait for Rudolf. Soon he pulled up in one of Roarke's jeeps, and they were on their way into town, commenting occasionally on the garishly-colored blossoms they noticed along the way. In the café they took a table at the opposite end of the room from the one where they had sat the previous day, made their choices quickly and then set the menus aside.

"So," said Rudolf, studying Louisa. "I'm afraid I didn't learn as much about you as I would have liked. Now what is it you do again?"

"I'm an executive secretary to a grand poobah at the Minneapolis branch of an international charity," Louisa told him. "You might've heard of it—it's the Veterans Aid and Friendship Society, out of New York City."

"_Herregud!"_ said Rudolf, looking astonished. "That's the one you work for? It's the same charity that Mother asked me to help her find someone to fill a critical slot in. The Sundborg branch takes up three floors of a skyscraper downtown, and one of the vice presidents lost his secretary nearly two months ago after she married a foreigner and moved to Canada. I had a longtime girlfriend who was the receptionist at VAFS, and Mother does extensive publicity for them, as her father was a disabled veteran." He suddenly paused, looking puzzled. "You work for a grand what?"

"Poobah," Louisa said and laughed. "I know, it's a goofy word, but it's just slang for an important person. My boss is okay, but he organizes the worst office Christmas parties in the history of mankind. I went to two of them—Emmy talked me into the first one, and I thought it was just an aberration, so I went voluntarily to the second one and realized that they were all that bad. I'm trying to think up an excuse not to go to this year's."

Rudolf chuckled, settling back in his seat. "If you succeed in finding one, I can only hope you won't lose your job."

"Well," Louisa said hesitantly, recalling her idea from the night before, "I actually was listening to you and your aunt talking last night at the luau, and I was thinking about applying for that open position in Sundborg. I can speak Swedish, and I know enough German to get by. I have a valid passport—got it after I first got this job, thinking I'd get to travel and I should be prepared." She bit her lip, taking in his stare. "Do you think I have any chance?"

Rudolf's smile had faded, and he regarded her now with all the confidence of a lone spaceman stranded on Mars. "If you apply for it, Louisa, the paperwork could drag out for weeks—if you're fortunate enough to get the position. And in any case, I don't have final say over who gets hired; neither does Mother. We can put in a good word for you…"

"Then would you?" Louisa asked, realizing she was begging but not caring. "It would give me the chance to travel that I never got in this job. It's an internal move; they wouldn't have to train somebody new, except maybe for idiosyncratic stuff like the phone system and interoffice etiquette and that sort of thing. I do good work; I've got commendations all over the place that say so. My boss likes me." She grinned self-consciously. "Anyway, it just really sounds terrific. Could you at least maybe mention it to your mom?"

Rudolf folded his arms over his chest, still looking dubious. "You do understand that this would necessitate your moving to Lilla Jordsö, don't you? You could take only so many of your possessions with you; you'd have to confine your apartment search to furnished flats only; and you'd have to leave your cats behind, unless you're willing to put them through six months in quarantine before they can join you. To be honest, I think it's more trouble than it's worth."

Louisa pondered his words in silence, wondering why he was trying to discourage her. She had thought perhaps there was a little something between them, after what he'd said yesterday when he brought back her forgotten shopping bags and after that sweet kiss he'd given her last night. Maybe to him she was really just another quick fling. Did he hope to get rid of her by letting her down easy, or was he merely playing devil's advocate?

She was evidently silent too long, because Rudolf shrugged and said, "There, you see? Too many obstacles in your way."

"I didn't say I changed my mind about applying," Louisa said, wounded.

"Louisa, you'd leave behind your parents, your sister, your friends—" Rudolf began.

"What friends?" Louisa retorted. "There's only Emmy, and she knows how bad I want to travel. She'd tell me to go for it. My parents'd be thrilled to get me and Chocolate and Cinnamon out of their house, and Kristen'd never miss me except as a verbal punching bag. The cats'd be fine in quarantine…I could visit them, couldn't I?"

"No," Rudolf broke in, and she made a face.

"Well, fine, I couldn't, but it's only six months. I don't really have a whole lot of stuff anyway. And besides, isn't the electrical current in Europe different from North American? Half my stuff, I couldn't bring with me anyway." Too driven to stop, she tipped forward over the table. "Do you really think I'd be that homesick, or is it that you just don't want me in such close proximity after all?"

Rudolf's expression grew incredulous and a bit annoyed, and Louisa caught her breath, snapping her mouth shut. _Too late, Karlsen!_ She groaned, squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, disgusted with herself all over again. "I'm sorry, Your Highness!"

The thump of a fist on the table made her eyes whip open again; Rudolf was glaring at her, looking honestly angry. "I told you to drop the honorific, or did you forget? Damn it, Louisa, why does it seem that you turn every lunch discussion into an argument?"

She instantly felt her entire face steaming; her eyes filled with tears. "Never mind," she blurted and began to scoot out of the booth.

Rudolf nearly upset the table reaching across it and seizing her arm. "Don't you dare run away," he snapped low. "Stay here and be adult enough to finish this, instead of fleeing like a cowardly little child!" She stared at him, shocked and scared, all too aware that she was dealing with someone far above her socially. The prince in him had come out and issued a royal command, and as the commoner, she felt compelled to obey. "Now," he went on, his voice low but throbbing with anger, "what kind of ridiculous wisecrack was that meant to be, about my not wanting you in proximity?"

Louisa gaped at him, half in panic, her eyes streaming. "Please don't make me—"

"I want an answer, Louisa," Rudolf ordered, his voice dropping a register and taking on a menacing tone. "You drive me thoroughly mad, and I've taken all I can absorb without doing actual bodily harm."

"Well, you are," Louisa squeaked through her tears and her fear, tugging halfheartedly at her arm. "You're hurting me."

Rudolf blinked, looked at his hand gripping her upper arm in a vise, then let out his breath in a rush, released her and fell back in his seat. She watched him warily while he propped his elbows on the tabletop and buried his face in his hands. "Please, forgive me, Louisa," he said softly. "I do have a temper…an Enstad trait, it seems." He lifted his face and peered remorsefully at her over his fingertips. "Will you please stay?"

Very gradually Louisa relaxed, cautiously repositioning herself in her seat, and nodded faintly. "I'm sorry," she said in a tiny voice.

"I am too," Rudolf said immediately, lowering his hands, then extending one across the table, palm up. "I don't want you to be afraid of me."

Louisa lifted an arm still shaking from adrenaline withdrawal and carefully slipped her hand into his; he wrapped his fingers around it and squeezed gently, and she met his gaze just for a moment. Finding it warm and hopeful, she looked into his eyes again, and at long last mustered up a timid smile. "I…" she began, and Rudolf's eyebrows both popped up in encouragement, his expression betraying his eagerness to hear more. "I said what I did without even thinking about it," she ventured, picking her way across a verbal minefield, her eyes fixed on his as though watching for signs of another eruption. "We hardly know each other, and already we've had a couple of really nasty fights…and I guess I really had a nerve asking you about that job. But…" She glanced at their joined hands on the table and then looked up again. "We had such a terrific time at the luau last night, and I felt like…like Cinderella after you kissed me." A startled little smile broke out on his face, which compelled her to admit guilelessly, "That's the first kiss I ever got."

"You must be joking," Rudolf said, voice incredulous but still soft.

"Nope," said Louisa with a self-deprecating shrug. "No boy kisses the class brain." He rolled his eyes and she loosed a small, watery giggle. "Well, it's true. The guys in my high school all wanted the dopey, busty cheerleaders. I was always listening to my sister Kristen going on and on about the boys she dated. She got kissed a lot."

"But I expect she's rather less intelligent than you are, am I right?" Rudolf prompted.

"Well, she's no Einstein," Louisa noted tartly, and he laughed, setting her still further at ease. Once more she risked letting her eyes linger on his, and liked what she saw there. "I didn't mean to drive you nuts, but I have that habit of swallowing my foot, you know."

Again Rudolf laughed and squeezed her hand. "You do drive me mad, but not in the way it appeared a moment ago. When I said that, I meant that I can't seem to stop thinking of you. The chaos in my bungalow wasn't the only reason I couldn't sleep last night. Something about you intrigues me deeply, and I want to explore that. But you seem so timid and so easily startled—not to mention very easily embarrassed—that I wondered if it would be worth the bother, especially in light of the fact that we'll return to separate countries after this weekend is over. I didn't think you felt as I did."

"But I do," Louisa said shyly. "I think you're very nice…when you aren't yelling at me, anyway."

Rudolf snorted with ironic mirth. "Damned with faint praise, indeed. _Ach_, Louisa, I don't mean to lose my temper, but you rather provoked me—so much that I'm a little scared of the power you have over me. You don't seem to fully appreciate the gifts you have. You're so sure your sisters have more exciting lives than you do, you try to reinforce your own vision of yourself as inferior—which is something I've never been able to tolerate. At least two relationships I had in _högskolan_ fell apart because of that habit of self-criticism. You're a very brilliant young woman, and quite unlike those shortsighted classmates of yours, I find that extremely stimulating. Or in the vernacular, it turns me on."

Louisa blinked at him, stunned. "Oh my God."

"That frightens you?" Rudolf asked.

"Well, I mean, look at me," she said helplessly, and when he frowned, she sat up straight and spoke in earnest. "Your Highness, this really isn't self-criticism, it's just me being honest. I'm a wallflower. I didn't have any friends, so I didn't go out anywhere and I never really got any experience in coping in a social setting. Remember, I told you I've never even been kissed! So…see, I didn't think it was remotely possible that you'd be that interested in me. If you are…then why did you discourage me from trying for that job?"

Rudolf sat there and blinked slowly at her once, then let his head fall forward and began to laugh at himself. "Caught in my own trap!" he muttered, voice heavy with irony. Looking up, he smiled in resignation. "When you first suggested the idea, I wondered if you really knew what you were going into. I said what I did in an attempt to be sure your eyes were wide open. All the things I warned you about are true, Louisa. You'll be able to bring in only so many of your things; you'll be lucky if your cats merely spend six months in quarantine, rather than being sent back to the United States altogether. You'll need to consider culture shock and the necessity of living in another language. And there are the practical concerns—finding a flat, transportation, things of that nature."

Louisa shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe I'm just young and stupid or something, but I think it'll be an adventure. You said my Swedish is good. I really want to do this, Your Highness. All I need is for you to tell me how to get my name to the attention of the people who are looking for that secretary." She hunched her shoulders then as a thought occurred to her, and added shyly, "And it'd sure be a lot easier for us to, well, to go out on dates."

Chuckling, Rudolf nodded agreement. "I'll concede to that. Well, then, Louisa, if it's truly what you want, I'll help you in whatever ways I can." He paused, then gave her a sudden glower that made her eyes widen in alarm. "But I do have one condition."

"What?" she squeaked.

His expression softened and he grinned. "Louisa, you sweet, funny girl, for fate's sake, will you please call me Rudolf?"

She grinned sheepishly. "Okay, Rudolf, it's a deal." He laughed, and they squeezed hands one more time before Rudolf raised one of his and hailed the nearest waitress.


	6. Chapter 6

§ § § -- October 31, 2004

It was a little past three-thirty, just less than half an hour before the wedding was to begin, and the terrace off Roarke's study was a scene of controlled chaos. Native girls were decorating the tall screening bushes and the wrought-iron benches; the Enstad men sat waiting patiently in the study; and Roarke stood out on the terrace, keeping an eye on the progress of the decorating and conferring with Mariki or Leslie as they bustled around lending a hand or double-checking the reception menu. Someone called Roarke's name and he made a quick excuse to Leslie, walking briskly off the terrace.

Christian sat on the loveseat surrounded by triplets; Carl Johan and Rudolf were in the two chairs opposite him, and Roald slouched in one of the leather chairs in front of Roarke's desk. Rudolf had brought a date, to everyone's surprise, the shy but friendly Louisa Karlsen; she knelt on the floor in front of the loveseat, playing with Susanna. Anna-Laura was upstairs in Leslie's old bedroom, with Gabriella and Amalia helping her dress.

"This is going to be surreal," commented Roald at one point. "I've never had a father, not that I can remember, at least. And now I'm about to get one, at the advanced age of 24. I have to wonder what Ceci would've thought of Gregory."

"I'm sure she would have the same mixed feelings you do," Carl Johan said. "Had Father remarried after Mother died, I expect we would have been even worse."

"Quite likely," Christian agreed dryly and smiled. "If there was one redeeming quality in Father, he at least didn't try to replace Mother."

Carl Johan regarded him with a knowing, resigned look. "Christian, you know perfectly well that Father truly loved Mother."

"I know that," said Christian, shrugging. "As I said, one redeeming quality. Don't leap down my throat, _äldrebror_—you're the one who brought up Father in the first place." Carl Johan chuckled and fell silent after that. Christian, holding Karina in his lap, set her down beside Susanna, then hoisted Tobias up in her place and shifted toward one side of the loveseat so he could turn to one side and watch Leslie on the patio. Something seemed to occur to him and he looked back at his brother. "Where was Magga supposed to be this weekend?" he queried curiously.

"Somewhere in central Africa, I believe," Carl Johan said, frowning thoughtfully. "We can't keep track of her travels anymore, she jets off in representation of so many different charities. She's still trying to buy the flat from Gerhard and Liselotta, and she and Briella have been going back and forth about her accumulated funds for weeks now."

"And she still won't explain why she wants to move out of the castle," Rudolf put in. "Roald made a joke about her entertaining legions of men in secret, and she was two centimeters away from permanently dislocating his lower jaw." They all laughed, with Roald rubbing his jaw around a good-natured grin.

"Hey," they all heard Leslie shout on the terrace just then, "don't hammer that thing into the wall, for crying out loud!" They all whipped around or leaned forward in time to see her catch up with two wide-eyed native girls and snatch a hammer out of the hand of one of them. "Good grief, what's gotten into you?"

"But Miss Leslie, how else will we get this streamer to stay up?" asked the girl who had been holding the hammer.

"Use masking tape, like the rest of them!" Leslie said, rolling her eyes in exasperation. "And no excuses about running out—here." She grabbed a roll of tape off the nearest iron bench and thrust it into the girl's hand. "Consider yourself lucky Father didn't see you about to punch holes in the siding out here. Holy paradise…" She blew out her breath and then looked around when everyone in the study laughed. "Hey, it's not funny," she protested, but wound up grinning anyway.

Christian teased, "I think you might have just saved two innocent, reckless lives, my Rose. Think of it as your good deed for the day." That brought on more laughter, but before Leslie could come up with a response, the phone rang. She groaned aloud and rushed inside to grab it, and after a moment frowned in surprise.

"Father's not here at the moment, but I know where he is—let me get him for you," she said and laid the phone down. About to rush out, she hesitated, looked at the hammer she still held, then brought it over to Christian. "Guard this with your life, my love," she said, and Christian laughed and promised he would before she fled out to the terrace. Tobias promptly grabbed hold of the peen, fingered it experimentally, then tried to lift the whole head of the hammer to his mouth, setting off yet more laughter when Christian hastily pulled it away, gently scolding his little son and handing him his teething toy.

A moment later Roarke came into the study and picked up the receiver that was lying on the desk, while Leslie waited just inside the French shutters. "Yes?" He listened for a moment, then raised both brows, the only sign of his surprise. "I see…thank you. I'll notify them both." He hung up and turned to Leslie. "If you'll do me a favor, my child, please go to Emily Campbell's bungalow and bring her back here with you."

"She's staying with me," Louisa Karlsen spoke up. "She decided she was going over to the casino and watch the blackjack games for a while, so you'll probably find her there."

"Great, thanks," Leslie said and disappeared again.

Louisa looked up at Roarke. "Is there an answer on Emmy's fantasy, Mr. Roarke?"

"Indeed there is," Roarke said. "However…I must break the news in private."

Christian spoke up, "Do you want us to leave, Mr. Roarke?"

"No, Christian, there's no need—I'll merely use the adjacent room," Roarke assured him, gesturing at the door to the time-travel room. About to say something else, he caught himself when Gregory Nordeman walked in, decked out in a very expensive and formal tux. "Ah, Mr. Nordeman. Are you ready to become a married man once more?"

"As much as possible," Nordeman said and grinned crookedly. "Any word?"

"We have just heard," Roarke said. "If you would, please, go into that room and wait." He indicated the time-travel-room door. Nordeman gave him a suspicious look, but when Roarke's dark eyes narrowed, he acquiesced and disappeared therein.

"How much longer?" Carl Johan wondered idly. "It seems the women are taking far too long, and Anna-Laura will be late for her own wedding."

Christian grinned. "If it seems so, I'll handle it. By my watch we have about ten more minutes. For fate's sake, _äldrebror_, let her have her day."

Roarke chuckled and observed, "You seem to understand your sister quite well, Christian. I'm sure she will appreciate that."

Christian raised an eyebrow and remarked, "Ach, Mr. Roarke, she has no idea. She's quite fortunate, though, because I learned patience and understanding from marriage to Leslie. So she has double reason to be thankful." They laughed, and Roarke left the study again to make a final check on the terrace.

Just before the wedding was due to start, Leslie returned with Emmy Campbell, who looked excited and scared all at once. Leslie brought the flushed young woman into the study, had her wait beside the desk, and blew a quick kiss to Christian on her way out to the terrace. Christian smiled, watching her go, and then set about putting the triplets in their stroller which sat behind the loveseat. Tobias never quit chewing on his toy, and Christian peered curiously at his son's upper gum, blinking when he saw a small white chip just starting to peek out. "Leslie was right!" he said aloud.

"What?" said Carl Johan.

"I can just see Tobias' very first tooth," Christian said, bringing his brother over to take a look for himself. "Sorry, son, but your uncle would like to see this." He gently folded back Tobias' upper lip, earning a genuine frown from the baby that made Christian and Carl Johan both laugh. But Carl Johan could see the tooth, and grinned, slapping his brother on the back.

"What about the girls?" he asked.

"So far they don't seem to be showing any signs. I expect that when they do, though, it'll be simultaneously, since they're identical twins, after all. Tobias seems to be weathering the process remarkably well. He chews everything to death, but that seems to be enough to keep him from being in constant pain." Christian smiled and smoothed his son's hair, then reached around and lifted up Karina, talking to her in _jordiska_ as he strapped her into the stroller. She beamed and gurgled up at him, and Carl Johan stood by watching with a grin, shaking his head at Christian from time to time.

When Susanna's turn came, though, she protested, kicking her feet and fretting. In _jordiska_ Christian teased her, "What's this, Susanna _lilla_? You don't want to come and watch Aunt Anna-Laura's wedding? I'm going to be holding your mother's hand, not you."

"I'll hold her, Your Highness," Louisa Karlsen volunteered. "I was playing with her, and she must've been having fun. Maybe she's not tired of it yet."

Christian twisted around to look at her in surprise. "You speak _jordiska_! Well, Rudolf, it appears you've found someone different from the usual sorts that your father's been telling me about lately."

Rudolf quirked his eyebrow and said, "I might have been slightly more circumspect if I had suspected someone was tattling on me."

Carl Johan and Christian looked at each other and in perfect unison echoed ironically, "Slightly." The entire room laughed as Roarke came in and took Emmy in hand, while Christian handed Susanna over to Louisa. Roarke smiled, glancing back at the royal family preparing to go out to the terrace, and ushered Emmy into the time-travel room ahead of him, pulling the door closed once he himself had stepped through.

Gregory Nordeman stood up as soon as he recognized Emmy, and she gave him a polite nod of greeting. Roarke introduced them to each other and insisted they both sit down before he himself took a seat. "I would have told you this in the study," he said, "but what with the impending wedding, I felt it better to say this in private." He studied Nordeman for a moment. "I do question the timing—"

"Mr. Roarke, you may recall that I insisted you tell me the moment you found out," Nordeman reminded him testily. "I haven't changed my mind."

"Very well," said Roarke a little coolly. "Before I begin, Miss Campbell, please tell me if you know who this man is."

"I've nae inkling, Mr. Roarke," Emmy said immediately. "Looks like nae one I should know." She peered at Nordeman a little dubiously and added, "Nor someone I might want ta know, wi' a short fuse like that."

"I have a reason for that short fuse," Nordeman said, looked at her gradually chilling expression and consciously softened his voice. "Please bear with me. It's an emotional moment for me, no matter what the outcome is."

"Of course," Roarke said and spoke to Emmy. "Gregory Nordeman is a publisher who owns a number of magazines and newspapers in various countries, including our own _Fantasy Island Chronicle_. Some three decades ago, he was married to a woman named Delilah, who bore him three children—a daughter Dorienne, a son Jory, and a daughter Robia. In February of 1979, Robia, approximately a year old, was abducted from the Nordemans' home and never seen again." He saw comprehension slowly start to grow on Emmy's face, and nodded. "Until now, that is. Miss Campbell, you are Robia Nordeman, the daughter of the man sitting across from you now."

Emmy's eyes doubled in size and stayed that way while she processed this. Nordeman stared anxiously at her, slowly leaning farther and farther over in his chair as if possessed by a desperate need to go to her; when he seemed about to speak, Roarke caught his eye, raised a hand and shook his head.

Finally Emmy focused and peered cautiously at Nordeman. "Sae ye're ma father," she said slowly, gazing hard at him when he nodded, his face now a mask of heartbreaking hope. "Ye never tried ta find me, then? What happened after I was…taken?"

"I put up a ransom," Nordeman said, in a voice that begged her to understand, that tried to convey the sense of anguish and loss he had known for a quarter-century. "I was sure the motive was money, because I was already a successful publisher and quite well off. But no one ever sent a note, and the police could find no trace of either you or your kidnapper. I waited for years and kept hoping. There were pretenders, three of them. The first one gave me so much hope, it all but killed me when she turned out not to be my missing baby. The other two were just as devastating."

"Och," mumbled Emmy, blinking. Something occurred to her and she leaned forward a bit in her chair. "Mr. Roarke said ye were married. But ye're aboot to have a weddin' noo, I see, sae what happened ta Delilah…ma mother?"

"Your disappearance triggered a mental decline in her," Nordeman said softly. "She carried on as if you had died, and Dorienne and Jory suffered for it—they could do nothing right. The whole thing began to ruin our marriage, and I got fed up and demanded a divorce a couple of years after you went missing. I always blamed myself for what happened after that. She took Dorienne and Jory for a ride and drove off a bridge, and they all drowned, your mother, brother and sister." Emmy gasped, but he barely seemed to hear. "I'd lost all of you, my wife and all three of my children. A man has to put up a shell, a protective front, I guess, to survive that. Seeing you last evening at the luau almost stopped my heart, Robia. You look exactly like Delilah did when I married her."

"Och," murmured Emmy again, looking dazed. "Saints help us." She gave her head a hard shake and eyed Nordeman again. "Ye called me Robia. Where'd ye get that name?"

"Delilah came up with it…she always liked unusual names. I don't know where she got them," Nordeman admitted. He had been feasting his eyes on Emmy all the while, and now he asked pleadingly, "Where did you go? What happened to you?"

"I was raised in Scotland, in the Shetland Isles," Emmy said. "Never knew enna different, ye see. Not that I didna hear strange thin's. Ma mum used ta go ta all lengths ta keep me in her sights, an' I heard her tell ma father once that it wasna right to take another woman's bairn away. Seems I had hints that I paid nae attention to. An' then ma great-aunt died, an' afore she went she told me the secret. Sae I came here an' asked Mr. Roarke ta find ma real people." She drew in a breath and released it in a rush. "D'ye ha' photos o' me? Enna toys I had when I was a wee one? Where an' when was I born? There's sae much I dinna know, an' I want ta know sae bad…"

"You were born Robia June Nordeman on January 30, 1978, in Saint Cloud, Minnesota," Nordeman said, and would have gone on but for his daughter's gasp. "What?"

"Och!" she blurted. "I'm workin' in Minneapolis right noo! Started wi' a charity that has a branch in Glasgow, an' decided I wanted ta see more o' the world, sae I put in for a position in America. An' I found maself in Minneapolis…nae sae far from ma birthplace!"

"Good Lord," said Nordeman, visibly shaking, and ran a hand through his carefully combed hair. "Something brought you home, Robia…" He hesitated. "Or should I call you Emmy, since that's the name you're familiar with?"

"Nae, nae, not at all," she said and shook her head. "I dinna want ta tell ma mum, but I always hated the name she gave me. Emily seems sae old-fashioned ta me, and I thought Emmy'd ease it a wee bit. Och, nae, call me Robia—I love it." She grinned and added cheerfully, "I'll get used ta it in nae time at all."

Gregory Nordeman stood up from his chair, still soaking in the vision of his long-lost daughter, tears standing in the haunted blue eyes. "I'll probably get used to that Scottish burr in no time at all myself," he said and grinned a little. "Matter of fact, I don't think I'd have it any other way. Aw, Robia…I can't believe this—it's a miracle, after all these years. If you don't think it's presumptuous, would you like to watch me marry my princess?"

"Och, a royal stepmother," Robia said and grinned widely. "I'd nae miss this for ennathin'. Maybe she'll even let me call her mum." She bounced to her feet and right into Nordeman's arms, startling the man for a moment before he wrapped her in a hard hug and closed his streaming eyes.

Quietly Roarke got up and left the room, pulling the door gently shut behind him, and smiled at Anna-Laura, who stood in the middle of the study looking puzzled and a little alarmed. "Gregory's late for the wedding," she exclaimed as soon as she saw him.

"If you can eke out your patience just a little longer, Your Highness," Roarke said, "you will see that he had a most excellent reason for it."

Leslie came in just as he spoke. "Father?" she questioned, and he nodded at her, smiling. She lit up and exclaimed, "Oh wow, that's fabulous!"

Louisa Karlsen, standing near the French shutters alongside Rudolf, overheard and turned around. "What's going on?" she asked, and at that point the time-travel-room door opened and Gregory and Robia Nordeman came out arm in arm. Anna-Laura's mouth fell open in bewildered shock, and Louisa called, "Coming to the wedding, Emmy?"

"Aye, that I am, and ye'll never believe it, but ye'll have ta start callin' me by another name. I went inta that room bein' Emmy Campbell, an' I came out bein' Robia Nordeman." She turned red when Anna-Laura gasped. "Aye, Yer Highness, seems I'm yer man's long-missin' baby lass."

"It really is Robia, honey," Nordeman said, his voice still thick with tears but his face alive with joy. "The DNA matched up, and I've finally got my baby girl home."

"_Ödet ta mej,"_ Anna-Laura breathed, blanching. Leslie leaped to her side, and Anna-Laura grasped her forearm, shaking her head. "It's all right, Leslie…I just…it's incredible."

"I know," Leslie agreed, glancing over her shoulder to see the entire wedding party staring inside from the terrace. She picked out Christian and winked at him.

Roarke cleared his throat and caught their attention, and he smiled at Gregory, Robia and Anna-Laura. "I believe I may have a way to make this little reunion feel 'official'," he said with a twinkle in his dark eyes. "Miss Nordeman, perhaps you'd like to stand alongside your father while I perform his wedding to Princess Anna-Laura, and then I will show you."

The ceremony was quiet, fairly brief but fraught with emotion on several fronts. Anna-Laura went into it still a bit in shock, but recovered enough to say her vows when called upon. They could see she was reassured when Gregory repeated his with full devotion in his voice, all his attention on her.

"By the power vested in me," Roarke said, "I now pronounce you husband and wife." Gregory gently kissed Anna-Laura, and when they turned to face Roarke once more, he smiled and touched Robia's shoulder. "And further, I now pronounce you, Gregory Robert Nordeman, and you, Robia June Nordeman, father and daughter."

"I do," Robia announced with a smirk, and everyone began to laugh, while Gregory Nordeman wrapped one arm around his wife and the other around his daughter and held on with all his strength, beaming at them all.


	7. Chapter 7

§ § § -- November 1, 2004

"It's absolutely the weekend that changed ma life," Robia said, slowly shaking her head, but her face bright. "I know there'll be a lot o' adjustin' and sae much ta tell each other, just a million an' a half bits o' info wee an' giant. But we've got a good runnin' start. I'm callin' him Dad, an' he's tellin' me what I was like as a wee bairn afore I was taken. We're makin' plans. I need ta be back at work o' course, an' Dad an' Her Highness should ha' their chance at a proper honeymoon, but after that I'll travel to Lilla Jordsö an' we'll all spend time together." She grasped Roarke's hands. "Thank ye sae much, Mr. Roarke, for givin' me ma real identity back. Noo I can start fillin' in all the blanks in ma life."

Roarke smiled warmly at her. "That's why I am in this business. The fulfillment of a fantasy such as yours is the greatest reward I can receive. Have a safe trip home."

Robia laughed. "Och, home. Hard ta know where home is. Born in Minnesota, raised in Scotland, ma dad in Lilla Jordsö, livin' in Minnesota…" She giggled at Roarke's, Leslie's and Louisa Karlsen's laughter. "We'll ha' citizenship issues ta work oot, an' knowin' ma dad means ta live in Lilla Jordsö makes me wonder if I oughta take up ma new stepmother's tongue. I've got some decisions ta make, but a wonderful dilemma 'tis, Mr. Roarke." She bade him and Leslie goodbye, had a quick word with Louisa and trotted off to the plane.

"Well, Miss Karlsen, did we fulfill your fantasy?" Roarke inquired.

Louisa looked reflectively up at him. "You know, it sort of seems obvious that you must have. After all, I met a prince, and he actually likes me enough to want to stay in touch with me—if that isn't glamorous, I don't know what is." Leslie and Roarke chuckled. "I know it won't be possible if I miss out on that job in Lilla Jordsö that I mentioned at the wedding reception last evening. But Rudolf seems to think I've got a good shot at it, and even Princess Amalia said I have an edge, knowing Swedish and German already, and seeing there's been such a lack of good candidates applying—that's what she said."

"So you have something to brag to your sisters about after all," Leslie prompted.

"Yeah, maybe I do," Louisa agreed slowly, meeting her gaze. "But you know what? I don't care so much anymore what they think, especially Kristen. Maybe 'getting out from under their shadows' didn't so much mean that they were eclipsing me, but that I just had to have some impetus for breaking away and living my own life."

Roarke smiled broadly and said, "Then in that case, your fantasy most certainly has been fulfilled. I wish you the best of luck in landing that job."

"And with Rudolf," added Leslie.

Louisa giggled. "Thank you, both of you. What a great weekend…for me and Robia both." They exchanged goodbyes, and Louisa headed for the plane.

"That's one fantasy we won't have heard the last of," Leslie mused. "Carl Johan's likely to keep Christian apprised of Rudolf's budding romance with Louisa; and Anna-Laura will probably mention Gregory's and Robia's reconciliation process to us as well." She met her father's gaze. "It's going to be fun to watch the evolution of both of them." Roarke smiled back at her and put an arm around her shoulder, and they both waved after their departing guests.

* * *

_Rudolf and Louisa's story continues in __**Bloom for Me**__, which will be posted on FictionPress under my alias there. If you're interested in following the developments between them, watch for new-chapter alerts!_

_Next: someone comes to the island who brings back a raft of poignant memories for both Roarke and Leslie..._


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